


Unfeeling Waters

by PurpleArrowzandLeather



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 1700s!, F/M, Slow Burn, just a bit of a different take, pirates!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2019-12-26 20:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 48,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18289382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleArrowzandLeather/pseuds/PurpleArrowzandLeather
Summary: The Queen's Gambit is sunk by pirates and the Queens are presumed dead. With Oliver's normal life over and everything he knew lost at sea, he just has to wait and see what the crew of the Azalea has in store for him





	1. Murdered by Pirates is Good

**Author's Note:**

> My first Arrow fic! Yay!

          Oliver laughs as a cold breeze drifts in the cabin window. “Chilly, Sarah?” 

          “I told you to close that! It’s going to rain.” 

          Oliver huffs, getting up to close it. Something catches his gaze as lightning flashes and he squints to get a better idea of what it is. A dark shadow is drifting closer to them, and Oliver waits for another flash to tell him what he’s looking at. He stumbles back from the window as he sees the tall mast of a ship. The colors flying at the top are a bloody threat. 

          “Sarah, run!” 

           She gets up from the bed, throwing her cover back on and padding quickly from the room. Oliver shuts the window, close on her heels. He hears her scream as he steps onto the deck and stumbles as the boat rams into them. It’s moving faster than he thought. He sprawls close to the railing, calling to the captain in warning. An arrow hits him before he can adjust their trajectory at all.  

          “Ollie!” Sarah screams, falling back as a large man swings onto the deck from the other ship.  

          “Sarah!” 

          She screams as the man runs her through and he tosses her overboard, looking around with a wild look in his eye. He’s wearing a mask, the color split down the middle.  

          “Wilson!” another man barks, leaping across the gap and joining them. “You know what the captain said about murdering without evaluating!” 

          “Did I?” he asks, shrugging.  

          Oliver is frozen with fear, silent horror on his face as he works his jaw without sound. He startles when someone grabs onto his shoulders and he sees his dad hauling him up towards the mast.  

          “Climb!” 

          “No, dad! I’m not leaving you!” 

          He doesn’t get a chance to answer, the masked man clocking him over the head with a smile. Oliver tries to climb, but the man grabs his ankle and tears him from the ropes. He hits his head, everything going blurry for a few seconds as the man drags him towards their boat. The men Robert hired try to fight for them, but the crew of the other boat cut them down. Blood spatters on Oliver’s face and he gasps, a panicked shout leaving his mouth. 

          He screams as the masked man swings back over the other ship with him on his shoulder. He drops Oliver on the deck, dazing him again. He watches the Queen’s Gambit go down as they pull away. The ship is gone, taking Sarah into the abyss with it. The crew maneuver both Oliver and Robert against the mast of their ship, swords pointed high in the threat of killing blows. Oliver tries to leap on one. 

          “Stay back, Oliver!” Robert orders, pulling him towards himself.  

          Oliver pushes forwards, protests streaming from his mouth. “They killed Sarah! They killed her! Dad, I can’t just- They killed her!” 

          “It’s too late now, son! Stop!” 

          Oliver growls at the masked man who killed her. “Why don’t you say anything, huh? You killed her and she didn’t have a weapon! She wouldn’t have fought you! Don’t you have any honor?!” 

          The masked man snarls. “I’ll show you honor, boy!” 

          He pulls his sword and Oliver’s eyes widen as he charges for him. The blade never hits its intended target and Oliver screams when it hits his shoulder instead of his chest. He pulls back, freeing himself as he crawls to Robert where he’s now on his knees, the sword through his chest instead. He'd jumped in front of Wilson's sword.

          “No, dad!” 

          Wilson pulls his sword free, the squelch of the blade bringing a smile to his lips. The man who reprimanded him before pushes forwards, finally seeing what happened.  

          “Slade, what did you do?!” 

          “Kid had it coming. The dad was just collateral damage.” 

          Oliver begs for it not to be true, but it is. Robert pulls in a breath, taking something from his pocket. “You take this, kiddo. Get back home somehow. Right my wrongs.” 

          “Dad, I- I can’t! Don’t go! Don’t go, I can’t do this without you!” 

          He slides the book into Oliver’s shirt, making sure that the enemy crew doesn’t see. “Yes, you can, Oliver. You have to survive.” 

          Oliver doesn’t notice the fight breaking out among the crew, his focus completely on Robert as he cries over his fresh corpse. He clutches his shoulder, sobbing. “ _No_.” 

          “Dig!” 

          Oliver’s head snaps up and the dark-skinned man turns. “Captain on deck!” 

          The crew stand aside, leaving Wilson and the dark-skinned man standing in front of Oliver and his father. The captain marches down the steps to stand before them, scowling over the sight in front of him. Oliver can’t help but notice how tiny he is compared to the two deckhands.  

          “What happened?” 

          Oliver’s eyes widen. The captain is a  _she_.  

          “The kid was causing a scene, and I intended to shut him up. Permanently.” Wilson answers. 

          “The deal was to make them disappear.” she says coolly. 

          Wilson shrugs. “It didn’t specify any direct need for them to be alive, now did it?” 

          She stalks up to him, her eyes dark and stormy like the sea around them. “If I had wanted them dead, I’d have done it myself. Trust me, Slade, when I say that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated further. Your next act of mutiny or anything of the sort is going to cost you an eye. Don’t doubt me when I say that I will take it from you myself.” 

          He glares down at her, and Oliver is certain that she’s about to die. Strangely enough, Slade is the one who backs down first. “Aye, Captain Smoak.” 

          He falls into line and she looks up at the dark-skinned man. “Report on the kid?” 

          Oliver stares up at them with wide eyes and the dark-skinned man shrugs. “No idea. You’ll have to ask him yourself.” 

          She grins. “I suppose I will.” 

          A breath catches in Oliver’s throat as she walks towards him and he falls back as she levels a blade under his chin. He scoots back until he’s pressed up against the mast again with nowhere to go. There’s a dangerous light in her eyes and he tilts his head back as she raises her sword again. 

          “I- I can offer you money!” Oliver manages. “More money than you’ve ever seen!” 

          She chuckles, a sly smile spreading on her face. “How much of a king’s ransom do you suppose your mother would offer up? Well....” she huffs. “A queen’s ransom, I suppose.” 

          “Anything.” Oliver answers, a tremor in his voice. “I swear.” 

          She laughs then, pulling back and sheathing her sword. “Luckily or rather unluckily for you, I’m not in this for ransom. As much as I’d like to take your offer, we were paid to get you out of the way.” 

          “Are you going to kill me, then?” 

          “That depends on how you handle what’s coming. Dig?” 

          “Aye, captain.” 

          Oliver closes his eyes, certain that he’s about to die. It’s only when the man grabs his wrists does he startle and look up again. Dig slides a strange-looking cuff onto his arm and pulls a thin wire from the side. Oliver doesn’t quite know what he’s doing, but he’s not about to fight a man twice his size. Dig presses a small button and slides a T-shaped part into the cuff again. It reels inside, clicking until it’s cinched tight around Oliver’s wrist. Oliver winces as it does so, but he allows the other cuff to go on nonetheless. He doubts it would end well if he fought. Once the second cuff is on, Oliver thinks it might be over, but Dig pulls out a couple of metal pieces from his side pouch and attaches them to the cuffs. They push into the palms of Oliver’s hands and just under the base of his fingers.  

          Captain Smoak looks around. “What are you all staring at? Get back to work!” 

          They scatter, leaving Smoak and the person Oliver would assume to be her first mate alone in their area. She stares down at Oliver with the dark-skinned man at her side. He hums. “What are we going to do with him? He’s barely got any meat on his bones, so it’d be near impossible to put him to work. We can’t let him go, since someone might recognize him.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “I’d assume you don’t want us to kill him?” 

          “No.” She tilts her chin up, raising a brow at Oliver. “I believe he could still be of use to us yet.” 

          Oliver leans over, crawling back to his father tentatively. The pair of them watch him carefully, continuing to discuss him as if he weren’t there. He doesn’t care. The cuffs restrict the movement of his hands, but he clutches to his father’s shirt as well as possible. Getting blood on him isn’t his main concern. 

          “Queen.” 

          He doesn’t move. 

          Captain Smoak looks to Dig and nods once, moving and kicking Oliver backwards. Dig moves to take the body and Oliver starts protesting again, nearly begging her. She keeps him down while Dig tosses the body overboard and Oliver makes a keening sound deep in his throat. Smoak backs off and Oliver tilts his head back, shaking it.   

          “Now what?” 

          “Now? We introduce ourselves.” 

          Oliver looks at them both, eyes wary and terrified. His facial expression is slack, and both of them would be willing to bet he’s still in shock. Dig crouches next to him and he shies away. He looks up at Captain Smoak with exasperation. She motions for him to go ahead anyway. 

          “Hey. I’m John Diggle. Obviously, she calls me Dig.” Oliver won’t look at him even when he extends his hand to shake. “Look, Mr. Queen-” 

          “Don’t call me that.” he hisses. 

          “Oliver, we didn’t intend any of this. We didn’t plan for your dad to die, and we most definitely did not intend to kill that Sarah person you were screaming about. That’s not the way we run things around here, but Slade was... is a necessary evil on this boat.” 

          Oliver glances at him, a frown on his face. He looks to Captain Smoak. “Why?” 

          “He’s smart and he’s strong. One of the best fighters we have onboard.” She crouches next to him too, finally giving him a good look at her face. She’s got a couple grease smears on her face, but otherwise, she seems very clean. “My name is Felicity Smoak, but you can call me Captain for now. Any other titles, you’re going to have to earn.” 

          “What are you going to do with me?” 

          She smiles, just a little too broadly. “Train you up as a deckhand, for now. We’ll see after that if there’s any room in there for fighting.” 

          “Fighting?” 

          “You’ll have to earn your keep, Oliver. You’d never survive a day in this life without us around, so we’re going to help you.” 

          Oliver looks at his hands. “Will I ever get these off?” 

          “That all depends on you. Do a good job, earn respect and prove you’re worth more than a name. Then maybe.” 

          Oliver considers for a long time. “There... there isn’t any chance you’ll just take me home?” 

          “Not a chance. I’m not going back on my word just so you can have it easy.” 

          Diggle helps him to his feet. “Come on, man. I’ll show you the ropes. You just have to memorize a lot over the next couple of days. We’ll also have to work on upper body strength, since it doesn’t look like you have any.” 

          Oliver tries not to take offense to that. “How am I supposed to work with these cuffs on?” 

          “Those are specially designed by Captain Smoak. You can handle ropes and a broom, but anything bigger than that, you won’t be able to hold onto very well. That means no guns and no swords. You can’t get out of them without the key, either.” 

          “Do you have one?” 

          “A key? Why? Are you planning to pick my pocket, Oliver?” 

          The words are laced with a particular kind of threat and he shakes his head. “No. Just curious, is all.” 

          Diggle hefts himself up onto the climbing ropes, offering Oliver a hand. “Yeah, I’ll bet you are.” 

          Oliver reaches with his injured arm and pulls back with a wince. “I don’t think I want to do this. I’ll just keep my feet on the ground.” He shuffles, watching Diggle drop back to the deck and give him a look.  

          “You don’t really have a choice.” Dig muses, placing a hand on his shoulder and motioning pointedly towards the ropes. 

          It says all he needs to say. Oliver climbs up with Diggle to the top of the mast and drops into the nest with a thump. 

          “What’s this boat’s name, anyways?” Oliver asks, panting and rubbing his hands. They’re already raw and he’s barely done anything at all. “The one you guys sunk was the Queen’s Gambit.” 

          “If figures you people would name the boat after yourselves.” He’s quiet for a long moment. “Azalea.” 

          Oliver blinks. “Sorry?” 

          “The boat’s name is Azalea.” 

          “Oh.” Oliver says quietly, peering down at the crew. “So... what’s the story behind Captain Smoak? How did she get to be in charge?” 

          Diggle chuckle. “Curious again, huh? Well, trust me when I say that you won’t get very far with her if you were hoping to seduce her or something. She’d be more likely to give you a public clipping than anything else. If you want stories, you have to earn them from her. The only thing you and I will be discussing is work for the time being.” 

          Oliver chuckles, but it’s fairly weak. He doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this place. 

 

          The next few days for Oliver are rough, and his hands hurt more than any part of him. He’s got blisters and rope burn up to his wrists and a few bruises in various other places. Oliver is not very handy on a ship at all. Diggle had not been impressed with his prior knowledge and coached him on it for hours, forcing him to run back and forth across the ship in search of specific items.  

          Despite that fact, he likes Diggle. He hasn’t dared speak to Captain Smoak, her eyes lighting with a particular brand of fire every time he’s come within twenty feet. He keeps well away from Wilson.  

          The rest of the crew are really no mystery. Shado and her father are their resident archers. Unlike most, they keep to using bows instead of crossbows. Oliver has no idea why, but they’re good. Yao Fei is their resident herbalist. He also does the cooking when they have something other than salted pork to live off of. Oliver isn’t sure how he feels about him, but it’s mostly because he can’t understand a word that he says. He keeps saying something along the lines of ‘sengshwun’, but Oliver has no idea what that’s supposed to mean. Shado hasn’t bothered to explain it to him. She doesn’t like him much, but at least she speaks English. 

          Roy is their main deckhand, and a bit of a pick-pocket. Oliver watched him steal from the captain herself just the day before, but she simply grabbed his wrist and took back her pouch, sending him away with a soft smile. He’s a quick hand with a sword and he’s taken to poking at Oliver because he can. Oliver doesn’t care.  

          “Oliver!” Diggle hisses. 

          He startles. “Wh- yeah?” 

          “Take this. Swing down to the main deck.” 

          Oliver takes the rope. “Why?” 

          Diggle narrows his eyes, adjusting Oliver’s grip on the rope and pointing him towards the lower deck. “Just do what I told you to do. You’ll thank me later.” 

          “I’m going to regret this.” 

          “Only if you do it wrong.” 

          Oliver closes his eyes, trying to bolster his resolve. When he finally manages to get ready, Diggle has gotten tired of waiting. He gestures for Oliver to go on and he does. For once, he’s glad for the attachment to the cuffs, considering he slides down the rope a little before he’s really ready to take his own weight. He catches himself, a surprised shout leaving his mouth as he’s carried across the length of the deck. He swallows, swinging there until the rope comes to a stop and dropping down.  

          “You can do better than that, Oliver.” 

          “What exactly do you want me to do? You said swing down, so I did.” 

          Diggle lets out a heavy-laden sigh, muttering under his breath. “Come on. Let’s try again. If you sit there swinging, we’ll all be dead before you get the rigging in line.” 

          Oliver makes a face. “So?” 

          “Oliver, there is no chance you’re getting home if you accidentally kill us.” 

          “As far as I can tell, there’s no way I’m getting home anyway, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

          Diggle stops him in place, looking down at him. “You listen to me, Oliver. If you do anything to endanger this crew, I will put a sword or bullet through your chest myself. I’d rather not do that, but there is no amount of begging or pleading that could stop me if I had to.” 

          “Just give me the gun and you won’t have to worry about it.” 

          Diggle nearly gapes, but he holds his composure. “No. You go back up to the foredeck and try again. Once you master a running landing, I want you to tie off at the stern. After you’ve managed to tie a knot that stays, you report back to me.” 

          Oliver goes back to the foredeck, Diggle watching him carefully. He joins Captain Smoak at the wheel. “We have a problem.” 

          “Is Oliver trying to kill us again?”  

          Diggle sighs, noting Oliver struggling to make a decent landing on the main deck. “I think it’s more himself that we need to worry about.” 

          Felicity seems shocked and she locks the wheel into place as Oliver comes back for another go. She takes account of the growing circles under his eyes and the sunken nature to his face.  

          “He’s eating, isn’t he?” she says, her voice low enough that Oliver can’t hear despite his proximity. 

          “For now. He doesn’t sleep, though. He doesn’t have his head on straight.” 

          Felicity hums. “He did watch Wilson kill two of the people that he loved right front of him. He can’t go home, and he most definitely doesn’t want to be here. He feels trapped.” 

          “It’s not like we can return him.” 

          “No, but I wish we could.” 

          They’re interrupted in their conversation by Wilson yelling to Oliver from across the boat. “You know, kid. I think it’s great that you’re on board. Seeing how clumsy you are makes me feel good, and fairly hopeful for a happy accident in future.” 

          Diggle sighs. “You’re going to stab his eye out, aren’t you?” 

          “I’m considering it.” 

          Diggle puts a hand on her shoulder when he sees Oliver going for it again. “Wait. Do you see what I see?” 

          Felicity nods, a smile threatening to show on her face. Oliver leaps, swinging with more certainty than before and making his landing. He traipses across the deck and ties off just like Diggle told him to. Diggle shakes his head while Felicity chuckles under her breath. 

          Oliver is one of _those_  people: the kind that’ll do something just to spite someone else. Wilson shuts up for a long while after that. 

          Oliver comes back to Diggle, a smile on his face even as he angles himself away from Felicity’s gaze. “So?” 

          “Good work, Oliver. Go clean up.” 

          He nods. “Diggle. Captain.” 

          Felicity shakes her head as he skips off. “Well… at least he’s in a better mood.” 

          “Yeah. The problem is that it won’t last. You and I both know that, and I’m kind of hoping that the feeling sticks with him for a while. We haven’t had a lot of success these past couple days.” 

          “So I’ve noticed.” 

          “Mmm. I don’t suppose you’d rather try bamboo?” 

          The question brings a smile to her face and she looks up at Diggle from under the rim of her hat. “That’s a wonderful idea.” 

          “That’s a terrible idea, and the only reason I suggested it is because it was such a terrible idea. How does training Oliver in combat help when he can barely use the mop without hurting himself?” 

          “Coordination training?” 

          “Just tell me you’ll be training him instead of Wilson or something.” 

          Felicity huffs. “I am astonished that you think I’m that cruel. Of course I’ll be training him.” 

          “Just don’t think for one second that he’s going to be any happier making an ass of himself in front of the captain. Be gentle.” 

          She chuckles, sliding her fingers into the loops on her corset. “Right. Gentle.” 


	2. Project Wintergreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew of the Azalea runs into a bit of trouble.

          “You aren’t supposed to break your own fingers when hitting someone. What kind of a fist is that?” 

          “The kind that billionaires make. Or the kind that you make when you’re still wearing awkward cuffs.” 

          Felicity scoffs. “No wonder none of you make a living by actually being on the ocean. You spend all of your time complaining about what you have. Come on, try again.” 

          “Can I at least get these off?” 

          Felicity tugs a set of keys from around her neck, tugging them up from her bodice in an attempt to make Oliver uncomfortable. “We’ll take the grips, but you’ll still keep the cuffs.” 

          “I still don’t get the point of these.” 

          “Keeps you from running off.” 

          “Okay, but we haven’t made land in over a week. Where exactly would I go?” 

          She shrugs, adjusting his stance. “If nothing else, when we do make land, they’d know who to return you to if you did run away.” 

          Oliver shrugs, making a fist as Felicity instructs him and deciding to change the subject. “So, since I’m terrible at bamboo stick-fighting, you’re going to punch me instead?” 

          She shrugs. “I can go back to hitting you with sticks if you’d like.” 

          “No thanks.” 

          “That’s what I thought.” 

          She spends the next couple of hours trying to show Oliver how to handle himself in a fight. The problem is that he’s stubborn enough to not want to learn it. As much as she’d prefer to just let him continue on as a gangly rich kid, she isn’t about to keep an untrained hand aboard her ship. 

          “Captain!” 

          She pauses and Oliver freezes upon hearing Wilson’s voice. “Slade. What’s going on?”  

          “We’re about to make land on Lian Yu. There’s an encampment of royal navy on the shore.” 

          She looks to Oliver. “If you try anything…” 

          He raises his hands in defense. “You can chain me down here if you want. I won’t try to escape.” 

          “You’d better not.” 

          Slade tosses Oliver’s chains to Felicity and she gets him settled just under the steps. He doesn’t protest, and it makes Felicity a little suspicious. Oliver may be weak and untrained, but he’s more conniving than he lets on. Felicity isn’t dumb enough not to see that. She breaks for the upper deck, her boots clunking lightly as she takes the steps three at a time. 

          The sky is dark, but the moon is casting a good amount of light over the water. She pulls out her spyglass. “Have they seen our ship yet?” 

          “I don’t believe so.” 

          Felicity nods, calling up to Diggle to take them to the far side of the island. He confirms, the boat creaking as they change directions. She squints up at the crow’s nest, spotting Shado with her bow at the ready. Yao Fei is perched on the stern with Roy at his side, the scrappy kid holding his sword down low.  

          “I don’t like this, Captain.” Wilson says, his voice low. 

          “None of us do. We unloaded all the cargo at the last port?” 

          “Yes. Only illegal thing onboard now is Oliver.” 

          She nods once, going up to join Diggle at the wheel. “Adjust thirty degrees to portside. We’re taking the long way around.” 

          “Aye, Captain.” 

          “Our contact should be here. We just have to hope all the soldiers are sleeping.” 

          Diggle hums. “You think Billy is going to keep his cool with the navy so close?” 

          “If he wants to keep his head. We’re just here to pick up a new job. I’m not wasting any time getting off this rock if I can help it.” She sighs to herself, looking out at the glowing fire on the island. “Do you suppose the Azalea can outrun them if they catch on?” 

          “Absolutely.” 

          “We don’t have hands for all the canons if we’re attacked.” 

          Diggle nods. “True, but we won’t need them. Shado can take out anyone attempting to sink us. They’d never even get a chance to light their fuses, especially with both her and Yao Fei on our side.” 

          Felicity puffs out a breath, watching Wilson lower the dark topsails to push them around the island faster. “That’s not my concern.” 

          Diggle smiles a bit. “Oliver, huh?” 

          “I just… don’t know what he’ll do. He’s chained up below deck, and he _said_ he wouldn’t do anything, but I don’t know.” 

          “Yes, you do.” 

          Felicity scowls. “It’s not that I don’t want to trust him, Dig. I do, but for now? He’s too unpredictable. You and I both know that anyone who wants to get home as badly as Oliver does is dangerous.” 

          “We also both know that there’s no way he’s getting out of those cuffs, so just take it easy.” 

          She hums in agreement, leaning over the edge of the ship as she watches the vessels closer to shore. She hangs her head after a little while. “Do you think we made a mistake taking that job?” 

          “We didn’t know Oliver was going to be there.” 

          “I know, but taking the job to sink the Queen’s Gambit? Usually, I’d be glad that we’ve sunk another baron’s ship, but… remember the look on Oliver’s face?” 

          Dig sighs. “Felicity, that wasn’t your fault. We did the job. Robert Queen disappeared.” 

          “He died in front of his son.” 

          “No, he sacrificed himself for his son. There’s a difference. Once Oliver can see that, maybe he’ll start to realize that his father wanted him to live. He can’t see that just yet because he’s still working through the guilt.” 

          Felicity shoots him a look. “So am I. We weren’t supposed to end up with a kidnapping victim and the blood of a civilian on our hands. The job was Robert Queen, and Robert Queen alone.” 

          Diggle locks the wheel into place and quietly walks over to her, leaning on the deck as well. “Guess Oliver’s not the only one with a guilt complex, huh?” 

          “Dig, we lied to him.” 

          “We didn’t lie. Slade took his own liberties with what ‘disappear’ is supposed to mean. We would never have killed him.” 

          “I took the job, Diggle. We can’t realistically assume that whoever put out the job didn’t want him dead, but I _still_ took the job.” 

          “So we could eat. You were looking out for your own. Just because things went poorly or not according to plan doesn’t mean what you did wasn’t necessary.” 

          “I’m just... I don’t know what to think. I want to let him go-” 

          “You know exactly why we can’t. This is the safest place for him right now. If we let him go, whoever put the job out there might find out and send someone else to kill him just to make sure he can’t tell anyone what he knows. They won’t care if he actually knows anything or not. Or he might tell someone about Slade killing his father, and we can’t have that tied to us either.” 

          She rests her chin on her arms, crossing one boot in front of the other. “I just hope that Billy’s job pays off. With another mouth to feed, we’ll have to be careful.” 

          “Yao Fei already adjusted for feeding Oliver, too. Despite his rocky arrival, I think he’s taken a liking to him. Shado doesn’t seem to care much for him, though.” 

          Felicity huffs out a laugh. “Did you or did you not see the mess he made out of the rigging yesterday? He’s lucky that either she or Roy didn’t take a swing at him. We were just lucky there was no wind.” 

          “He sure is taking a long time to figure out what he’s doing.” 

          “I get the feeling that when the time comes that we need him on deck for something serious, he’ll know. Until then, we’ll keep an eye on him.” 

          “We always do.” 

          Felicity hums, pulling her braid over her shoulder. She isn’t exactly comforted or happy with herself yet, but Diggle always was good at telling her the truth. It may not always be what she wants to hear, but at least it’s the truth. 

          Wilson calls out a time estimation to shore and Felicity tells him to drop anchor. She spins the bronze dials to release the smaller boats and a pair of them splash into the water. They’ll only take one, just in case the rest of them need to get to shore. She takes Wilson and Roy with her, leaving the others behind. Diggle will do what needs to be done, and he’ll have cover from the Feis’ bows if something goes wrong. 

          The make land and Felicity tugs her sword free, ready for a fight with the navy so near. Wilson does the same, his shorter and wider, but just as dangerous. Roy pulls their two boats securely onto the shore and joins them in the shadow of the trees. 

          Felicity glances around, eyes almost glinting as the moonlight catches them. “Watch your footing. There may be mines.” 

          Both of her companions utter back an ‘aye, captain’ and continue to walk. Felicity adjusts her grip on her sword as she spots a shadow move. “Billy?” 

          “Captain Smoak? Is that you?” 

          “Yep. Wilson and Roy, too.” 

          Billy scampers down from his hide-out. “Wilson?” 

          “Bill.” he answers, stepping forwards with a wide smile on his face. “What’ve you been up to, eh?” 

          The share a hug and Billy chuckles, pulling back. “Well, I was getting you guys a job from my contact. Gotta feed my friends somehow. It’s a shame the nay is so close. They came up last night looking for ground to sleep on for once.” 

          “Any activity from them?” 

          “Not really. A couple went hunting a little while ago without much success. They blundered about too much to really catch anything of use.” 

          Wilson laughs. “They should stick to their salted food while they’ve still got it.” 

          Felicity interrupts. “I know you guys are happy to see each other. It has been a long time, but we need to move. Billy, have you got the job and payment?” 

          He nods, turning a bit towards the trees. “Had to hide it when the navy showed up.” 

          Felicity doesn’t know why, but he seems a bit shiftier than usual. “Let’s go, then. Lead the way.” 

          Bill leads them a long distance, trailing further from the encampment and the shore. Felicity’s breaths puff out into the cooling air and she shivers a bit. Roy rubs his arm, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. He was used to the cold long before Felicity trained him up as a sailor. Wilson only huffs, not exactly pleased with the change in the weather, but not willing to say anything either.  

          They stop when they reach a giant hollow log. “I don’t know why people always trust you with payment in advance, but it sure must be appreciated, eh Smoak?” 

          Felicity taps Wilson, gesturing for him to go up the flank. His expression shifts as he tunes into her suspicion and he hesitates before going. She doesn’t want to believe it either, but she has to accept the feeling in her gut. She sends Roy back towards the boat with a quick hand signal.  

          Billy leans down as if to pick something out of the log and Felicity pulls out her gun, pointing it at him. He’s smiling when he comes back up and he pulls his hand from the bag. Gold pieces fall from his fingers when he sees her weapon trained on him and his brow lowers. 

          “Don’t trust me, Lis? We’ve known each other a long time.” 

          “Yeah, we have. That’s why I know that you’re acting weird.” 

          He glances around, lips curling into a smile as he nods slowly. “Already sent Slade and Roy back, eh? Glad to know that my years of service have been taken into account.” 

          Felicity takes a couple steps to the side, squinting one eye. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you now.” 

          Billy spreads his arms, inclining his head to the area behind her. “The lives of your crew depend on it.” 

          She turns her eyes on Wilson and Roy where they’re being hauled back into the small clearing by naval soldiers. Their dark coats blend into the shadows well enough and she looks back to Billy. “So, it’s going to be like that then? What happened to being friends?” 

          “I’ve been offered a rather copious sum of money by the soldiers. It’s much, much more than my meager cut for finding you jobs to do to feed your sad little crew.” 

          Wilson growls from behind her. “We trusted you!” 

          “Of course you did. You’re a sucker for a friendly face. You all are.” 

          Felicity’s finger curls tighter around the trigger. “Roy?” 

          “Do it, Felicity!” 

          Felicity smiles charmingly at Billy. “You should have brought more men.” 

          He tilts his head and Felicity pulls the trigger, Wilson and Roy moving to disarm their guards as the bullet hits Billy in the chest. She knew rifling was a good idea, since her regular gun might have missed at thirty yards. 

          “Stop where you are!” 

          She freezes, her crew doing the same. The raise their hands, twenty soldiers surrounding them. Felicity is starting to wish she had brought Yao Fei along with them.  _This is what I get for thinking positive._


	3. Fleeing

          Diggle hums to himself as he sees Felicity disappear into the trees. He looks up to Shado and she shakes her head at him. He doesn’t like that Billy didn’t just send them on their way with the payment right away. It’s unusual. Still, he supposes with the navy so close, there must be certain precautions taken. 

          He treads down below deck and finds Oliver under the steps. “Hey.” 

          “What’s going on? Did something happen?” 

          “Not yet. Captain Smoak, Wilson and Roy went to shore to meet our contact.” 

          Oliver nods, chains rattling as he drags a hand through his hair. 

          “How’s your shoulder?” 

          He tests it with a careful shrug. “Almost healed, shockingly enough. Whatever Yao Fei gave me did the trick.” 

          “Just some herbs.” He moves to unchain Oliver, only the cuffs remaining, and takes him up on deck. “If something goes wrong, I want you to take the boat in the water to shore.” 

          “Why?” 

          “You can’t be found on this ship. If they find you, we’ll be charged with human smuggling.” 

          Oliver considers for a long moment. “You don’t think they’ll burn the Azalea, do you?” 

          “Probably not, but seeing as how you’re supposed to be dead, they might make an exception.” 

          After Oliver murmurs his agreement to the plan, they wait a good twenty minutes for Captain Smoak to return. Diggle gets antsy enough to send Oliver off, and he seems a bit reluctant to leave them behind. Diggle shoos him away, ordering him to go. As much as it’s endearing to know that Oliver feels a little loyal, he really doesn’t need to be caught in the crossfire. 

          Diggle laughs to himself as he sees how clumsy Oliver is in the rowboat, but he’s making decent progress towards the shore. 

          The moon is falling, only a half-hour from giving way to morning when Shado shouts out a warning of incoming boats. The bigger ships are following them around the edge of the island and Diggle calls for Yao Fei to lower sails. Diggle moves to pull up the anchor and Shado starts to loose arrows upon the boats. She has four spare quivers up in the crow’s nest, so she should be fine for a long while. 

           The wind caries them quickly away and Diggle steers towards the nearby islands, hoping to find a subtle inlet or to lose their pursuers in the rocks. Their vessels are much wider than the Azalea, despite her large nature. The smaller islands provide cover while Diggle searches. It doesn’t take him long to spot a place to hide and he spins the wheel, slipping into a gap in the rocks. The good news is that it leads to a small cove. The bad news is that there’s only one way out. Thankfully, it doesn’t really hurt them considering the two archers onboard. Ships don’t function without a living crew. 

          Diggle turns the Azalea around, telling Yao Fei to drop anchor again. With Felicity’s modifications to the ship, dropping and raising anchor are hardly an issue. Diggle knows that he’s decently intelligent, but Felicity has always struck him as an anomaly. The only time he ever saw her wear a dress was that one time that they robbed a rich baroness. She knows exactly what she’s doing. 

          Shado calls down from the crow’s nest, saying that the navy has passed the cove. Diggle can’t help but feel relieved, the dawn isn’t far now and it’ll be easier to see in full daylight. They’re very fortunate to have both Shado and her father. It seems as if they’re immune to the dark. 

          Diggle can only hope their luck holds out. 

****** 

          Felicity grumbles as they’re marched into the camp. Wilson looks devastated and Roy is quiet, not even being mouthy with the soldiers. She grumbles because it’s not just a temporary encampment on the shore, but an actual base of operations. There are tents set up and border guards patrolling around.  

          They take them to the center of the camp, settling them down on their knees and shackling their wrists. Felicity could laugh over the futility of it. It’s not as if they have much choice but they stay put anyway. 

          “So…” a man’s voice says, his tone full of smug pompousness. “Pirates, or so I’ve been told by your friend Billy Wintergreen.” 

          Felicity chuckles. “I don’t know if you’ll be pleased or not to know that your little rat is dead.” 

          “An unfortunate casualty, I’m sure. Though, unfortunately for you, he was wearing armor and survived the shot. Impressive marksmanship, I must say.” 

          Felicity tilts her head back so that the man can see her face under the edge of her hat. Her eyes are hard as steel. “Don’t think for one moment that you’re going to survive the aftermath of this. You’ll never find the rest of the crew, and if they come after you, there’ll be an arrow in your eye socket before you have a chance to scream.” 

          He raises a brow. “A rather interesting threat considering your position.” 

          Roy let out a weak laugh. “Maybe antagonizing him isn’t the best plan?” 

          The soldier smiles, lips curling with amusement as he looks to Slade. “Believe me when I say you will not be convincing me to do anything rash. You’re going to help me, actually. And very willingly if you value the lives of your crewmembers.” 

          Roy yelps as they cut his arm, groaning as he tries to get a look at it. Felicity’s expression is thunderous. “That’s going to cost you. Maybe not today, but someday.” 

          “Bold words, for another time.” He looks up at his men. “Bring them to my tent.” 

          They force the crew to their feet, one soldier grabbing onto Roy rather roughly on purpose. Wilson spits a threat at the man, a wild look in his eyes. Felicity keeps her chin high, smiling dangerously at any soldier staring a bit too closely at her. As a woman, she’s used to it, but as a captain, she figures that merits her at least some undercurrent of danger. She can’t pretend not to take pleasure in their shivers as she passes. 

          She only plays the damsel card when it’s absolutely necessary. 

          They get settled into the tent, waiting for their interrogator to return. He enters after about five minutes, setting a stack of papers down on his desk. 

          “So, Captain Smoke.” He turns to Slade and Felicity nearly cracks up. “You let a woman play at being a true pirate and lead your troop. I can’t tell if you’re honorable or just hoping for bad luck to befall you.” 

          Slade huffs. “You soldiers. Think you know everything, do you?” 

          “Only when it appears my information is correct.” 

          Wilson shifts around, a smile spreading onto his face. “Mmm. What do you think, Captain Smoak? Do we let this man live when we’re done here? He sure is awfully naïve for a sailor.” 

          Felicity shrugs, glancing back at him. “I haven’t decided yet.” 

          “Captain Smoke?” the soldier says, sounding scandalized. 

          Felicity tilts her head up. “That is my name, yes. Now may I have the pleasure of knowing yours?” 

          He clears his throat, looking outside the tent. “Fyers. If you’ll excuse me, I have something I must tend to.” 

          “Going to go ask Billy why he left out the fact that the captain was a woman?” Slade spits. “He’ll probably say it wasn’t important. If he could betray us, he’ll betray you. He wouldn’t think twice.” 

          Fyers raises a brow. “On the contrary. We’re paying Mr. Wintergreen quite a lot and killing me would negate that. I’m sure you can understand his shift in allegiance.” 

          Felicity shakes her head as Slade bares his teeth and he stands down. They’re left with guards for the next few hours and Roy leans over to sleep on Felicity’s shoulder. Usually she’d scold him, but he was wounded. She can cut him some slack just this once. 

****** 

          Oliver runs along the tree line, panting. He hadn’t been expecting Diggle to send him off by himself. He supposes that Diggle has a point, though. If Oliver were caught, he could claim not to know anything. No one would be the wiser. 

          His blistered hands ache from rowing the boat, but he knows that he has to keep moving. If he can find a place to hide, the crew won’t have to worry about him. And he might have half a chance of escaping. Still.... he can’t help but be curious about the navy encampment. They could be his way home.  

          Even with the tempting thought in mind, he’s mindful of what Diggle told him. He doesn’t know when it happened, but he likes the crew of the Azalea. It’s been about a week, but he’s oddly attached.  

          Oliver scampers through the trees, ducking behind logs and being clumsy in general. He figures that as long as he keeps moving, he’ll be just fine. It takes him a few minutes to realize he’s sacrificing his freedom for a bunch of pirates. He can’t help that it feels  _right_. 

          He’s about to hop over a log when his foot catches on something and it makes an obnoxious clinking sound. He climbs to his feet, looking around quickly before crouching down again. He picks up several pieces of gold, eyeing them curiously. Oliver picks up a thick leather bag, pushing the gold back into it with a bit of confusion. He drops the last of it into the sack, pulling his hands back as he stares at it. He looks at his fingertips, a sticky feeling on his index and middle.  

          _Is this... blood?_  

          He wipes his hands, picking up the bag of gold and walking with it. He doesn’t know why, but there has to be a reason that it was left behind. He spends a long while thinking it over and stumbles to a halt as he realizes what that reason must be. He might not be too heartbroken over Slade being dead, but Captain Smoak was trying to help him survive and Yao Fei was attempting to teach him to cook. The sane part of his mind tells him that the only thing he should be grateful for is that he’s off the boat. 

          The not-sane part of him is wondering what he can do about it, since he’s a sucker for people who take care of him. 

          Suddenly, a branch cracks nearby. Oliver flinches, ducking his head as he takes cover behind a tree. He tries to peer around to see who’s there, but the sun still isn’t up yet. He pulls back as he tries to calm himself, closing his eyes.  

          “Don’t. Move.” 

          Oliver freezes, a slim sword pressing up under his chin. He carefully looks up at the man, his coat of arms a dark navy color.  

          “Who are you? What’s your name?” 

          Oliver considers the question, deciding on whether or not he should answer. The sword presses against his throat with a threatening pressure and he nearly chokes on a panicked breath. “Oliver! My name is Oliver!” 

          “Well, Oliver. Get up and turn around slowly.” 

          Oliver grips the neck of the bag in his fist, the cuff on his wrist shifting forwards a little. The soldier eyes him warily and Oliver makes a swift decision on whose side to be on. The gold weighs heavy in his hand and he brings it around his body with a sharp motion, hitting the man upside the head with it. The pieces fly everywhere and the soldier hits the ground with a thump. He doesn’t get up. Oliver crouches next to him, swallowing back his fear as he presses his fingers to the man’s throat.  

          He stumbles back, covering his mouth for a short moment as he works out what to do. He nods to himself, breaths shaking out of him as he tells himself that he’s fine. Even he can tell that it’s a filthy lie, but it seems to do the trick. He crawls over to the majority of the gold and sweeps it back into the bag. He picks up whatever else he can find, slowly drawing the small book that his father gave him out of his shirt. He puts it in the bag too, tying it shut with a vine and moving back over to the soldier. He takes the man’s clothes, his own ratty and dirty anyway.  

          With the bag of gold in hand, he makes his way back to the shore. Light shines through the trees from the morning sun and Oliver picks up his pace. He doesn’t see the ship, so he suspects that the remaining crew of the Azalea had to make a run for it. The two boats are still right where they were earlier. Oliver settles into one, searching for a compartment or something. Knowing Captain Smoak even as little as he does, there should be one around. 

          Oliver stills as he comes to a revelation. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?” 

          He hops out of the boat, splashing into the water as he taps around the bottom of the boat.  Oliver reaches the back when he hears a deep, hollow, thunk. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head. He squints, figuring that there should be a trick to opening the hidey-hole if it’s even there. Tapping, pushing and pulling prove to be no use and he tilts his head back, groaning.  _Why did you have to make this so difficult?_  

          He starts wondering if he’s only imagining the hollow sound, but he knows that the rest of the boat didn’t make that noise. He presses his hands to the wood, feeling for irregularities. About halfway along the side, Oliver finds two boards that have been notched and a slot shaved to about half the wood’s thickness.  

          He slides one of the two thin rectangles, shouting and falling back as a gunshot goes off. He spits out some water, checking himself over. “I guess that was the wrong one. I don’t know whether I’m impressed or offended.” 

          Oliver glances around, knowing that the sound might have drawn unwanted attention. He quickly pulls the other piece of wood and the slot at the back of the boat pops open. Hastily shoving his bag inside, Oliver replaces the wood piece and darts back to the trees. He makes his way towards the encampment, his poor stealth skills not helpful in the least.  

          “You there!” 

          Oliver stops, looking towards the source of the voice. “Yeah?” 

          A man marches towards him, sword in hand and a frown on his face. “What are you doing this far out?” 

          “I got lost when I was hunting, and I dropped my sword into a ravine on my way back.” 

          He frowns harder and Oliver grimaces. “I don’t know who enlisted you for this, but all of you are clumsy fools. I’ve not seen a single one of you more efficient than a poorly sharpened sword.” 

          “I’m sorry, sir.” 

          He huffs. “Yes. I’m sure you are. Now get back to camp for disciplinary action.” 

          Oliver skedaddles, shuffling past the blond man. “Yes, sir.” 

          The man grumbles, but continues on his path. Oliver can’t help but feel that he didn’t convince the man and he really doesn’t want to know what the so-called ‘disciplinary action’ is. He makes it to the camp, his breath leaving him as he realizes how big the operation really is. They don’t look like they’re on the shore for an overnight stay. _Okay. Let’s hope I can at least pretend to know what I’m doing_. 

          He walks slowly through camp, rubbing at his palms as they chafe in the gloves. He’s almost certain that his blisters will break open if he has to keep wearing them. At least they help cover up the cuffs. His arms are definitely too long for the coat sleeves.  

          “Hey!” 

          Oliver stops, looking towards a soldier where he’s waving him overt. “What?” 

          “Come here, kid.” 

          He steps closer, looking around. “Can I help you?” 

          “Yeah. You can take my post and guard these prisoners. I’ve been standing here for three hours and I need a break.” 

          “But I have to-” 

          “Great. Thanks. Gotta go.” 

          Oliver sighs, standing in front of the tent with his back to the door. He hears whispering from behind the flap and he tries to listen closer. Their voices are too low for him to make out, so he just awkwardly stands in front of the tent flap. 

          He grimaces, rubbing at his hands to try to ease his discomfort. It gets bad enough that he snags the finger of one glove between his teeth and pulls it off. The skin is warm and red since he’s been messing with it. It itches, but it’s better than it was with the glove on. In light of that discovery, he takes the other glove off and leaves his hands by his sides to hide that he’s not wearing them. All the other soldiers in his vicinity are wearing theirs and he wonders how they do it. Of course, they don’t have rope burn and blisters underneath. 

          “ _Hey! Oliver_!” 

          He straightens, looking around for the speaker.  

          “ _Behind you, kid._ ” A male voice says. 

          Oliver turns, entering the tent. “Captain?” 

          She huffs, smiling. “I don’t know how the hell you got here, but however you did it, I admit I’m impressed.” 

          Roy and Slade both grumble something about them being able to do it better. 

          “How did you know it was me?” 

          “Your cuffs are showing without the gloves to hide them, Oliver.” Felicity answers, sounding a little exasperated. “Do you happen to have some keys on you?” 

          Oliver chuckles, searching through the pockets of the vest and tugging out some keys. “You don’t keep lockpicks with you?”  

          “Not today. This wasn’t supposed to go so poorly.” 

          Oliver shrugs, leaning down to free her and the others. “Just figured you’d be more prepared, is all.” 

          “You don’t get to talk to me about prepared, Oliver. You just focus on getting us out of here and I’ll focus on the preparation portion.” 

          They move out the back of the tent, grabbing their weapons and heading straight for the edge of the camp. They’re almost out when they run straight into the blond man from before.  

          He scowls at Oliver. “ _You_.” 

          “Fyers.” Felicity hisses. 

          Oliver leaps on him, surprising Fyers enough to give the others a chance. “Go!” 

          The three of them take off running, listening to Oliver wrestle with Fyers in the underbrush. Felicity skids to a stop, turning. “Oliver, come on! Stop fooling around and let’s go!” 

          Oliver gets ahold of Fyer’s gun, turning it on him. “Just get out of here! Go! Don’t come back for me!” 

          Slade grabs her arm. “Come on, Captain. He knows what he’s doing, so let’s get going!” 

          Felicity forces herself to move.  _It’s Oliver or my entire crew. I have to do this._  

          Roy and Slade keep her in between them, watching the flanks for anyone who might be following. Felicity leaps over a fallen tree, sliding down a steep embankment and crouching at the bottom, one gun raised. Slade pants, tugging his sword from his sheath and waiting for Roy to slide over the edge as well. Roy heaves a breath, wiping his nose as it starts to run.  

          “What about Oliver?” he asks. 

          Slade shakes his head. “Does it matter? He obviously wanted us to escape, and now we have. It’s time for us to get out of here, Captain. It’s no use waiting around for the royal navy to quit chasing their tails to chase us instead.” 

          Felicity slides her gun into its holster again, sighing. “I agree with you, but I really wish that I didn’t.” 

          “You often do.” 

          The three of them pick back up to a jog and travel quickly for the shore where the boats are. The only thing left to do is hope that they can find the rest of the crew if they had to make a run for it. Felicity tries not to think about what the navy will do to Oliver in their absence.


	4. Landings

          Diggle watches Shado as she scouts the surrounding islands, calling down quiet reports from the crow’s nest. Noon has come and gone, Diggle getting more anxious all the while. As nice as the cove is, Diggle would very much like to get moving, and he needs Felicity to show up to do that.  

          “Shado, call again.” 

          “Do you really think they’ll answer? I’ve tried six times already. We’ll be lucky if they hear us from the main island.” 

          Diggle sighs. “Just do it, please.” 

          She nods, cupping her hands around her mouth and trilling in their customary signal. It’s a long minute while they wait for a reply and Shado drops her hands, rubbing her forehead. 

          “We’re down here!” 

          Diggle runs to the edge of the boat, chuckling as he sees Felicity, Slade and Roy paddling both boats to the side of the ship. “Where have you guys been?” 

          “Long story.” 

          “Where’s Oliver?” 

          “Shorter story. Just get us up there, Dig.” 

          Diggle waves to Yao Fei to lower the ropes for the boats. He pulls the reel lever to bring the boats up and the other half of the crew jumps onto the deck gladly. Felicity removes her hat for a moment to slide a hand over her hair. Diggle knows that look well by now. He follows her below deck when she heads that way. 

          “What’s the plan?” 

          “We get out of here.” 

          Diggle makes a face. “Without Oliver? Where’s the payment for the job?” 

          Felicity sighs, resting a hand on her hip before kicking over a set of target practice cans. “We didn’t get it. Billy betrayed us for the money that the navy would pay him and Oliver sacrificed himself so we could get away.” She looks regretful. “We have to get out of here, Diggle. There’s no way we can stay without getting caught or killed.” 

          He offers her a long look. “Oliver told you to leave, huh?” 

          She nods, grumbling under her breath. 

          “Then let’s go.” 

          Felicity looks up at him, an uneasiness in her eyes that’s become commonplace with matters concerning Oliver. “I don’t want to leave him here. Not with the navy around. Who knows what they’ll do if they find out who he is or where he came from.” 

          “Felicity, I don’t want to leave him here any more than you do. Which is why, when we find something that pays, we’ll come back.” 

          “That could be months. What if they kill him?” 

          “There isn’t much we can do, Felicity. We have to have resources for a rescue, and we can’t get those by staying here. If Oliver told you to go, then he obviously knew what he wanted.” 

          Felicity huffs, shaking her head. “Fine. We’ll go back to Starling port. I’ll check in on my sources there and visit Barry once. Sometimes he has jobs around the place.” 

          “You really think Barry will have something?” 

          “No.” 

          Diggle hums and she scowls at him. 

          “Just get us moving towards Starling. With any luck, we’ll be there before supplies run out and we have to start fishing. If you think for one second that I’m about to leave someone to die, you’re wrong.” 

          “Did I say that?” 

          Felicity tromps up the steps, tossing him an exasperated look over her shoulder. She takes the helm, ordering Slade to pick up anchor and Roy to drop sails. Diggle joins her by the wheel, musing over the crew as they work. Shado shoots a questioning look towards Felicity, but she doesn’t say anything. Yao Fei does the same from where he’s tying off at the stern. 

          She tries to ignore them, instead keeping her focus on getting her crew home safe. She can’t help but feel guilty even with Oliver’s willingness to stay behind. She hates it, actually.  

          After three days of travel, the boat rocks gently in steady waters. The ocean has been surprisingly cooperative, so they’ve made good time. By Felicity’s calculations, they should reach their port by the week’s end so long as the weather holds. Felicity's modifications to the ship make her the fastest ship on the open ocean, but the wind is definitely helpful.  

          She leans on the rail of the deck, the small boats swinging with the movement of the ship. A stronger wind blows at the boat from the side and Felicity grabs the rail to steady herself. Diggle stands more alert at the wheel where he’s holding the Azalea steady. The boats hit the side of the ship, an awful clattering noise following. 

          Felicity scowls for a second before she realizes that the sound isn’t normal. “Was that what I…?” 

          She jumps into one of the boats, drawing Shado’s attention from up in the nest. “What’s going on?” 

          “I think Oliver put something in one of these boats.” 

          Roy hops into the other one. “You really think he figured one out?” 

          Felicity laughs. “He’s a clumsy idiot, but he’s not stupid, Roy.” 

          Slade wanders over, chuckling to himself. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, but I think this time I’ll humor you. You’ve piqued my curiosity with all this talk of Oliver doing something pirate-like. I’ll need proof.” 

          Felicity opens the compartment in her boat, finding it empty. She turns to Roy where he’s leaning over the side of his. “Any luck?” 

          “More than a little. I think this is the gold for the job.” He pulls out the bag, reaching back in to grab all the gold that fell out of it. “There’s something else in here.” 

          Felicity’s brow furrows. “Like what?” 

          “I think it’s a book, but it’s pretty far back there.” 

          Felicity hops in with him. “Here. I’ve got longer arms than you.” 

          “Aye, captain.” 

          She grabs the book, leafing through it. “It’s Oliver’s.” 

          Slade laughs. “It’s also empty. Leave it to Oliver to carry around an empty book.” 

          “It was his father’s.” 

          Slade shrugs, taking the bag of gold. “I will say one thing for him. He’s a little too nice for this life. It’s really too bad we don’t know what the job was supposed to be.” 

          Roy peers into it. “This looks like most of it.” 

          Felicity hops back into the ship, sliding the book into her side pouch. “It was probably too dark to find it all. It’s better than not having it.” 

          Felicity divvies out the gold among the crew, feeling a little bad for taking it and not doing the job for it. Still, it’s not the worst thing she’s ever done. She’s had to make plenty of decisions that were worse than that. 

          Even so, she spends the next few days working on a plan to get Oliver back on their return trip. She hates that Diggle can clearly see how antsy she is. She wouldn’t say it and neither would anyone in the crew, but since he left them the gold, they all might be a little endeared to Oliver. Felicity and Diggle don’t really care about the gold, but it was nice. Slade has since reconsidered his position on Oliver being a total idiot. Now Oliver is a ‘bloody soft idiot’. Shado has softened a little, but Felicity thinks that’ll change the next time Oliver mangles the rigging.  _If there is a next time_. 

          She stills at the helm as she realizes that she _wants_  Oliver back on the ship. The thought is sobering and she checks the sun to see how far along they are. Felicity calls down to her crew. 

          “In about three hours, we’re going to hit Starling. Shore time will not be long, as we’re going back to Lian Yu as soon as possible. Visit your contacts and look for easy jobs that can be done at a later time. Whatever else you feel like doing should be done quickly. Be back onboard by tomorrow morning, preferably before dawn.” 

          She gets a chorus of ‘aye captain’s and they all get ready to dock. Even though shore is three hours away, it’s good to be prepared. She hasn’t exactly given them a lot of time, but none of them are protesting going back to the island to retrieve Oliver. She’d be impressed, but they all owe him whether they like it or not. 

          Land can’t come fast enough. She may not be going to see Barry after Dig’s reality check, but she has business to attend to and tools to gather. 

          Upon arrival, her crew ties to the dock faster than she’s ever seen. They take their leave with promises of being back and hopefully with work. Diggle stays behind, escorting her down to the cobblestone streets that lead to lower Starling. It’s not the most handsome of places, but her contact has a decent home. Diggle has become attached to the gruff old soldier, being drawn in by that wondrous sarcasm that he has so much of. It’s Diggle’s nature to enjoy that sardonic kind of thing.  

          That’s why he insists on sticking with Felicity. Or so he says.  

****** 

          Fyers rubs his chin as Oliver slouches in the chair in front of him. After having been overpowered by Fyers, Oliver quickly became less of a threat. He’s not very strong.  

          “So, Oliver. Where have your friends gone?” 

          “I don’t have any friends.” 

          Fyers huffs. “You seemed quite attached to the crew of the ship you freed.” 

          Oliver cradles his ribs as much as he can with chained hands. “I didn’t know who they were.” 

          “So you just decided to let them go out of what? Generosity? You can’t really expect me to believe that you didn’t know any of them, since each of them clearly knew you. You’re only making things more difficult for yourself.” 

          “How am I supposed to help when I don’t know anything?!” Oliver spits. 

          Fyers glares. “I don’t believe you. Thankfully, we have alternate methods of pulling information from you.” He waves a hand to the guard at his door.  

          Oliver is pulled from his chair, his captors lifting his recently-chained hands above his head as they attach him to a pole. They had tried to get Captain Smoak’s cuffs off, and Oliver had almost laughed when they said that they couldn’t. He actually prefers them on, since the crew is likely coming back for him and Smoak said they would identify him. At least, he hopes they are returning even though he told them not to. 

          Fyers comes around to face him, a smug look on his face as he clasps his hands behind his back. “Now is the point where I give you one last chance to tell me everything. What is Captain Smoak’s real name?” 

          Oliver makes an effort to look confused. “I’m telling you, I don’t know.” 

          “Where would the crew go after escaping?” 

          “I don’t know. I don’t know any of them!” 

          Fyers hisses. “But they knew you! The captain seemed rather reluctant to leave you behind.” 

          “Because I helped them! They asked me my name, so I told them. That’s all!” 

          His captor clicks his tongue, making a hand motion. “Fine. If that is the way that you want this to go, Oliver, then that is the way it shall go. We’ll have a  _friend_ join us for questioning.” 

          A man comes through the tent flap and Oliver stills as he sees the mask that has frequented some of his nightmares. The body doesn’t move quite right to be Slade, but Oliver still presses back against the pole as far as he can out of fear. The man doesn’t speak, simply stalking up to Oliver and drawing his sword. 

          “Who are you really?” Fyers asks.  

          Oliver remains stubbornly silent. 

          The sword starts to cut against his skin and Oliver screams. Oliver doesn’t try to move, only continuing to cry out as they keep torturing him. He doesn’t care.  _Show some loyalty. Prove you’re more than a name_. 

          “Where is your crew?” 

          Oliver shakes his head. “I don’t know. Please, don-“ 

          He’s cut off mid-sentence, choking on the agonized sound that threatens to leave him. Oliver has never felt anything like this before. His cuts burn and he begs for the pain to stop, but it doesn’t. Fyers tells him that the only way it stops is if he cooperates, but Oliver refuses to do that. Oliver is many things, but a sellout isn’t one of them. So he screams until his throat is raw and his breaths are a weak tremble.  

          It’s only after that Fyers tries yet another method. “Would you like some water, Oliver?” 

          Oliver doesn’t answer. It’s not that he’s not thirsty, but saying it seems impossible. He aches for some relief, but he isn’t strong enough to ask for it, and he most definitely doesn’t want it from Fyers. 

          “Why are you protecting them, Oliver? You were only their slave.” 

          Oliver stays quiet. 

          “Look at you. Ratty clothes. Shackles. Blistered hands. Not only that, but they left you here. Look at all the pain they’ve caused you, Oliver. All your hard work to free the crew you’re loyal to, and they leave you behind.” 

          Oliver is angry, but not angry enough to answer. He told them to leave anyway. It’s not their fault. 

          “Did you think they cared for you? Did you think freeing them was enough? They’re pirates, Oliver. They won't come back for you. They have no loyalty and no code. All they do is lie to and swindle everyone they meet. There isn’t an honorable bone in any of their bodies.” 

          When Oliver doesn’t answer yet again, Fyers grows tired of trying. His voice is meant to be cajoling, Oliver knows, but to him it’s only annoying. He lets the man with the opposite of Slade’s mask have at him.  

          His shirt is a bloody mess by the time they’re through and Oliver is most definitely a little delirious. Fyers continues to be angry with him, but it’s no use.  

          “Perhaps you really do know nothing, young man.” He muses, pulling Oliver’s head back by his hair. He gasps, not moving an inch for fear of aggravating his new wounds. “Or perhaps you’re too stubborn and loyal for your own good. All of this would be over if you’d just tell me who they are and where they’re going. These are very simple questions, Oliver.” 

          Oliver can’t help but think that they aren’t so simple when there isn’t a chance that he’d give up the crew. 

          It’s dark when Fyers well and truly gives up for the night. The soldiers drag Oliver out of Fyers' tent and to one that looks as if it has held prisoners before. It’s deep enough in the trees that it’s not visible from the island, and Oliver can see why they’d want it that way. They toss him into the nearest corner and he chokes back a shout. He doesn’t fight as they chain his hands to the wooden floor they have installed. It occurs to him as odd, but he doesn’t have the energy to care.  

          He doesn’t sleep, instead dozing off and on. The fever rising in his body makes sleep seem very appealing, but the warning surrounding his fuzzy head wards it off. He doesn’t mind. Not really. He’d much rather be aware of what’s going on around him. He just has to hope that he can remember literally anything that Felicity taught him. 

          Thinking about Captain Smoak reminds him of something Fyers said. He pulls himself up enough to lean against the pole in the corner, wincing and grimacing the whole way there. He stares down at his hands, groaning a little and looking away from them.  _You were only their slave_.  

          He considers for a long while, trying to figure out if it’s true. He eventually lands on a solid ‘no’. Aside from Slade and Shado (somewhat), everyone on the ship has been helping him. Even as much as Slade tries to degrade him, he doesn't really care. It’s enough that Slade gets to haunt his nightmares, so there is no point in letting him haunt his days as well. 

****** 

          Oliver is cold.  

          It’s been one of the prevalent things about the island that he’s noticed over his four days of captivity. The island is cold enough at night that Oliver has shivered himself to sleep. For Oliver, being cold brings nightmares, and nightmares bring insomnia. Shockingly enough, Slade is not the focal point of his dreams. Instead, it’s the new masked man who has brought him so much agony already. No one has told him who the masked man is, but Fyers claims they’re supposed to be friends. Oliver should know his name at the very least, but he doesn’t. He finds himself thankful that Captain Smoak told him so little. 

          During their torture sessions, Oliver waits patiently for the moment when everything gets fuzzy. Everything hurts less then. In a few moments of clarity, Oliver does note that it’s probably not a good idea to become dependent on that feeling. It’s not like he has anything better to do. He has no idea where the crew is, and he’s still not giving up their names. Sometimes, Oliver gets a small inkling of a feeling that Fyers already knows their names, but he wants to see what Oliver will do. It’s just an inkling, but for some reason it feels right. It’s yet another reason why Oliver refuses to tell him anything. 

          Fyers has tried a lot of methods to get Oliver to say anything, but he’s barely spoken a word in the last three days.  

          The only thing in Oliver that has really shifted around is his viewpoint of the navy. The navy is supposed to be a tool of justice, but he's seen more honor recently in the pirates that sunk his ship. It’s a bit disheartening that he’d rather be stuck on the island with Slade. 

          “Mr. Queen!” 

          Oliver’s head snaps up and he looks around, his expression dazed. He tries to remember what Fyers had asked him even though it’s not important. He definitely got a little sidetracked in his own head. He only makes a questioning noise in response. Fyers scowls at him and the masked man throws a bucket of freezing water on his head. Now not only is he cold to his bones, he’s also drenched. He’ll die of hypothermia before they get anything from him.  

          “Would you like to be dry, Oliver?” 

          Without thinking, Oliver nods. 

          Fyers raises a brow, a small smile on his face. “Then I suggest you start giving names.” 

          Oliver spits out a bit of water, slumping back against the pole a little as he shivers harder. His fingers are numb where they’re chained above his head, but that’s nothing new.  

          “Commander Fyers.” 

          He turns to the little minion by the tent flap and so does the masked man. “Yes?” 

          “We’ve had a setback. You’re needed at the dock.” 

          He sighs, glancing at Oliver with a contemplative expression. “I suppose we’d better tend to the issue. Let’s leave our guest here to consider his options, shall we?” he says, gesturing for his partner to come along. 

          Oliver swallows, tilting his head back. A whimper leaves him without his permission, but he consoles himself with the knowledge that he’s alone. He doesn’t like that he’s starting to feel tired when he knows he needs to be awake. His breaths catch as he pushes his weight back to his feet. His soaking clothing drip slowly over the floor and Oliver attempts to ignore how the color is a little off. It’s the closest to a real cleaning he’s come in the last week. Captain Smoak took the hygiene of her crewmates seriously, and now he finds that he appreciated the effort.  

          He rocks forwards a little, trying to relieve the tension in his shoulders and back. Anything he can do to keep himself awake while Fyers is gone will have to do the trick. Aside from hoping for a chance to escape, staying conscious is at the forefront of his mind.  


	5. Conspiracies and Piracy

          Felicity enters the house of her contact. It doesn’t look like he’s home, but he should be soon enough. He owes Felicity a favor anyway. She kicks her feet up on his table, leaning back in her chair. Diggle sits down across from her, ready to wait just as patiently as she is. 

          It takes about an hour.  

          He steps inside and Felicity smiles as he drops his kerchief and keys at the door. “Good evening, Mr. Lance.” 

          Lance jumps, pulling his sword as he wheels towards the table. He takes a calming breath when he realizes that it’s just Felicity and Diggle. “You pirates never do get over the sneaking around, do you?” 

          “Not in the cards.” Felicity hums.  

          Lance pushes his sword back into its sheath and tugs his gun from its holster, setting both items on the table in front of Felicity. It’s a show of trust and truce. Felicity obliges, gesturing for Diggle to do the same.  

          “So, since you’re here, what do you need? It’s a little late for you and your crew to be docked around these parts.” 

          “I just need some information on a naval encampment.” 

          Lance scowls, dropping into the seat across from her and next to Diggle. “Why would you want to know that?” 

          Felicity raises a brow. “What happened to our deal of no questions asked?” 

          “It jumped out the window and hid under the cobblestone as soon as you asked me to commit treason.” 

          She shrugs. “It’s not like I’m planning to blow them up. I just need to know why they are where they are. As far as I’m concerned, the base can stay, but they have something that I need.” 

          “The last time someone had something you needed, one of your deckhands took off a guy’s fingers.” 

          Diggle chuckles. “The kid has matured a little since then.” 

          Lance looks to him. “You sure, or do you just have too much faith in that little rugrat? I warned you about him.” 

          “Lance.” 

          He sighs, looking back to Felicity. “Which encampment?” 

          “We’re looking at one that’s based on the island of Lian Yu. The commanding officer there is a guy named Fyers, and he’s a real piece of work. He stole something from me, so I figure getting a little leverage and intelligence will be beneficial.” 

          “Fyers?” 

          “Short, blond, pretentious.” 

          Lance shrugs, making a bit of a face. “I’ve never heard of him.” 

          Diggle lifts his eyes to meet Felicity’s and she nods. “So it’s a secret military operation.” He rumbles. “It figures that you wouldn’t know about it, but it’s too bad as well.” 

          He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “Well, I’m so sorry that I can’t help you with your murdering and stealing, but I’ve been a little busy this past month. In case you hadn’t noticed, my house is empty and my daughter-“ Lance catches himself. “My daughter is gone.” 

          Felicity blinks. “Which daughter? When was this?” 

          Lance shakes his head, brushing a hand over his face. “Sarah. It’s Sarah. She got on that damnboat with that stupid Queen kid, and now she’s gone. No one knew until after, but it’s too late now.” 

          Diggle’s eyes widen and he looks to Felicity. She shakes her head a little, warning him not to give anything away. “I’m sorry about your daughter, I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do about it and we have to get moving. If you can’t help, I suppose we’ll have to find someone who can. I’ll warn you now not to chase us.” 

          Lance watches her as she and Diggle get up, hearing the coldness to her tone which wasn’t there before and seeing the way that she commands her first mate to keep silent without a word. “You know something.” 

          “Goodbye, Mr. Lance.” Felicity responds, picking up her weapons. 

          “You know something you’re not telling me and it’s about Sarah! Get back here or I swear I will-“ 

          Felicity whirls, sword under his chin in a fraction of a second. “You will do  _nothing_. I told you once that if you interfered in my business that I would kill you, regardless of what you’ve done for us. I don’t take betrayal lightly, and I’m a woman of my word.” 

          Lance doesn’t show the effect her intimidation has on him, but she sees it in his eyes. “Why won’t you just tell me what you know?” 

          “Because it doesn’t make a difference.” 

          He stumbles back, taking her words as confirmation of his own fears. She and Diggle leave him in his house, running off towards the closest naval headquarters. Their boots pound on the stone beneath them, but they don’t draw much attention. It’s too late an hour for that. Even if they did happen to be spotted, Felicity’s clothing and hat would make her seem like a small man and it’s difficult to see Diggle’s facial features in the dark. 

          Once they get a few blocks away, Felicity slows them to a stop. The HQ is just on the edge of the Glades, and generally that’s where Roy hangs around when they make land. It’ll be a lot easier to get in with an extra pair of eyes, but Roy likes to pick fights. It’s a little habit he’s collected from growing up on the streets. It’s also one that Felicity doesn’t take too kindly what with their current line of work. 

          “Why didn’t we just tell Lance what happened?” 

          Felicity glowers at him, leaning against an alley wall to keep in the darker shadows. “Do you have any idea what would happen if we told him that Slade killed his daughter? Our boat would be up in flames before someone could say ‘pieces of eight’. Even if we managed to get to the Azalea first, he would hunt Slade as long as he was with us, and he would see us as enemies because we let him kill Sarah.” 

          “I doubt he’s any happier with us right now for not telling him everything.” 

          “I’d rather he be unhappy than have him chasing us.” 

          Diggle nods, running a hand over his close-shaven black hair. “So, what now? I know you said we’d find someone, but I don’t think we-… _Oh_.” 

          Felicity snickers. “Yeah, Dig. ‘Oh.’ I was thinking more along the lines of breaking into the navy HQ and seeing what they’ve got.” 

          Diggle chuckles, gesturing for her to lead on. They keep as low a profile as possible, and she can tell that Diggle is keeping an eye on her as they both slink through the shadows. “The more we do this, the more you remind me of the girl we found in the back alleys of London.” 

          “Let’s face it Dig. The Americas are a lot more fun. That's why I came back, you know?” 

          “We also have a lot more crime, so our type fit right in here. It still have no idea why you decided traveling to London was a good idea.” 

          Felicity only laughs, cutting through a dirty street to save time. It’s about eight hours until dawn, so he and Felicity have to be back in time to purchase supplies and restock their weapons and ammo. The crew generally bring back a few things of their own, and Diggle is fairly certain that Slade had a new pair of swords commissioned. 

          “What are you two doing this far west?” 

          Diggle jumps a little as Roy practically crawls out of a gutter, sliding down the side of a building and landing in front of them. Felicity is unfazed, but Diggle kind of expected that. She’s used to people appearing out of nowhere due to her rather unfortunate past. Even Diggle doesn’t know the true extent of it, but he knows enough.  

          “My contact couldn’t help us, so we’re going to HQ to borrow a few files.” 

          Roy nods, lifting the hood of his cloak over his head as it starts to rain a little. “Want me to come?” 

          Felicity shakes her head. “Get back to the boat and make sure we’re ready to leave come morning. I don’t want the weather coming to keep us pinned down for too long.” 

          “We might have to stay here a few days if this picks up.” 

          She nods, looking to Diggle. “We’ll keep our visit as short as possible. If Shado or Yao Fei are onboard when you get back, ask them if they think we can move. They’ll have a better idea.” 

          “And if they say to stay?” 

          “Then we stay and find work on dry land.” 

          Roy nods, slinking away as quickly as possible. Once he gets far enough, his cloak melts into the shadows and they lose sight of him. Felicity narrows her eyes, jerking her chin as an order for Diggle to move. 

          “You don’t like to stay on the land.” 

          Felicity huffs. “How observant of you.” 

          Diggle sighs, following her for a little while before speaking again. “You know, it’s not a crime to stay on the shore for a little bit. Even Coop-“ 

          Felicity halts in her tracks and hisses. “Do not say that man’s name! He was a coward, and he would have sacrificed all of us to escape his sentence. You and I both know-“ 

          “I know that you loved him.” 

          She glares. “Then you also know that I ripped my own heart out the day I ran him through and took over. It was the right thing to do, but I’ve tried long and hard to forget that. So, I would be very appreciative if you wouldn’t bring it up.” 

          He lifts a brow. “Why? Are you going to kill me too? I’m just saying that this situation is starting to feel awfully familiar.” 

          “You know I’d never do that, Diggle. My being anxious to not be on land has nothing to do with him, and stealing from HQ has nothing to do with him either.” 

          “You’re sure that you weren’t going to look for records that prove he was a traitor?” 

          Felicity turns away without a word, slinking up the stairs to the naval headquarters and breaking the first window she sees. She feels around for traps and wires out of habit before going in, leaving Diggle to watch her back. There are a couple officers around to watch the place, but Felicity takes them out with hardly a second thought. When she slips into the commodore’s office, Diggle puts his back to the door to stand guard. A third officer comes by, but Diggle wraps an arm around his throat and chokes him out. Two bodies will be enough for the morning. 

          “ _Holy cheese-fries_.” 

          Diggle’s brow furrows at the odd comment and he joins her in the office. “What is it? Did you find the orders for Lian Yu?” 

          She pages through the heavy paper, eyes focused and expression drawn. “No. It’s a record of the mark for Robert and the Queen’s Gambit.” 

          “What? Who from?” 

          Felicity shakes her head. “I don’t know. There’s no seal on it, but it had to be someone with a lot of power. Can you imagine who would have the guts in the government to sink the ship of Robert Queen?” 

          “We would.” 

          “I mean indirectly.” 

          “Still… why would they keep a record of something like that? It’s a good way to get caught.” 

          She glances out the window just to make sure there’s no one watching. “Even the richest man has to keep track of his liquid funds. Anything less could turn into a scandal.” 

          “So, we’re taking the papers?” 

          “No. We need to look for the placements on Lian Yu. Go look through the books over there.” 

          Dig turns to do as he’s told, glancing back even as he hears Felicity tapping the paper to see if it will split. Yao Fei would be able to reveal the wording if they could get the bottom half of it, and Felicity knows that. She technically wasn’t lying when she said they weren’t taking the papers. 

          He pages through multiple maps, memorizing what little information he can gather. “I think I found it.” 

          “Good.” 

          Diggle turns at her distracted tone, her lockpicks scratching at the tumblers of the oak desk drawers. “Felicity, we don’t have time for that.” 

          “Why don’t you let me be the judge of what we do and don’t have time for? I’m the one paying you after all.” 

          Diggle hums. “Wasn’t it Oliver who paid us last?” 

          “Shut up.” 


	6. Meeting #1

         Roy’s hustle back to the boat is uneventful. The pack of swords under his cloak weighs heavy on his slight frame and he really wants to put them down. Still, he knows that they need the weaponry. He would never admit to being a little miffed at having to pull out his weapons stash. Especially not to Captain Smoak’s face. She’s far too scary for that, and she grew up in the same part of the Glades that he did. She’s also helped him out too much for him to really care what they do. 

          He remembers meeting her the first time, and he’s never been more scared out of his mind as he was that night. It’s still as clear as day in his memory, even four years past. Roy was eight then. She was fourteen, but looked a whole lot younger. At least, until she decided to stop playing damsel. 

          It was dark out, not that it ever really gets light down in the slums of Starling. Roy had been rustling through a pile of garbage for something to eat when he heard something else in the alley with him.  

          “ _H-help. Please. Someone_?” 

          Instinctively, Roy pulled into the shadows to hide his face. He had no protection, his shirt shabby and holes in the knees of his pants. He followed the quiet sounds of crying and as he drew closer, he also made out a hint of someone choking. It’s not as if he hadn’t heard it before, but if it had something to do with that voice.... 

          Creeping into a dead-end alley, Roy readied his small metal clock hand. It was the only serviceable weapon he had ever carried considering that most metal went to the royal navy for weaponry.  

          The choking grew louder in Roy’s ears and his apprehension grew. He came upon the man whose coughing was getting weaker and Roy jolted back as he realized that the man was choking on his own blood. A little dubious, he reached into the man’s pockets for any loose gold are silver. He found none and scowled at the man. His high-end clothing was a dead giveaway that he should have been loaded, but there was no money on him. 

          “ _Hello_?” 

          Roy crouched as quickly as he could, ducking his head. His eyes flicked back to the mouth of the alley, his gaze sharp with warning. There was no one. He continued until he reached the wall, finding a girl slumped there. She looked up at him with blue eyes that were so big and tearful that he was pinned against the wall before he had a chance to ask her what was wrong. 

          He didn’t even think about screaming. Those eyes that had him captivated before were hard as a tempered blade and filled with a determination that rivaled most of the rich. Roy couldn’t ignore the overpowering smell of blood on her and his breaths came short as he started to panic. While his chest was heaving under her arm and his Adam’s apple was bobbing under the threat of her knife, she caught a glimpse of his ribcage through a hole in his shirt.  

          She pulled back, straightening to reveal that she was much taller than he originally thought. “What’s a runt like you out here for?” 

          “My mom, she-” 

          The knife steadied under his throat. “I asked nicely, and your answer might save your life, so don’t lie.” 

          Roy sank down the wall of the alley, his expression stoic even as tears started to drip down his face. It was no question that she could see the fear in him even as he tried not to show it. He was trembling in front of her, and he didn’t even care. She was dangerous. 

          “M’ an orphan. S’ not like I’ve got somewheres to go.” 

          She lowered her knife just a little, her expression calculating. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. “You can’t be very old, since you’re fairly small.” 

          Roy glowers. “M’ eight.” 

          His answer seemed to settle something in her and she sheathed her knife. He wasn’t sure where it even came from, and he was determined not to find out again soon. “Come with me.” 

          “No thanks.” 

          “Fine. Stay out here and starve, runt. I’ve got enough from this guy to feed you something if you want, but I’m not going to wait around forever for you to trust me. I’ve got my own problems, and you should be flattered that I want to make you one of them.” 

          Roy swallowed, pushing himself up enough to walk and tilting his head back to get another look at her face. “Who are you? I came in here cuz’ I thought you were in trouble.” 

          “The only trouble in this alley is me. Name’s Felicity.” 

          Roy took a step towards her, starting to follow as she left. “That’s a weird name.” 

          “You don’t get to judge. My mother expected better for me, and she’s got a more positive outlook than I do. I’m a bit of a realist, if you will.” 

          “A what?” 

          “I see things how they are.” 

          Roy made a small noise, but he didn’t question her again. He wasn’t willing to ignite her wrath. He was shaking too hard to fight if she decided that he’d offended her somehow. He had a feeling that she was handier with a blade than he would think. Her little ploy in the alley was enough to know that she wasn’t just some stupid girl. Roy would reserve his opinion for a time when he was alone and he could possibly panic without her eyes on him. 

          “My name is Roy.” 

          She peered around the corner of a dark house. “It’s probably more a pleasure for you than me, but it’s nice to meet you.” 

          “Why’re you helping me?” 

          She reached into a dark alcove, pulling a bag out of pretty much nowhere. He didn’t understand how, but she slipped her haul into it and slid the bag over her shoulder. “Let’s just say I’m a sucker for a sad face.” 

          He frowned. “M’not a sad face.” 

          She threw him a look over her shoulder as she trailed out into the street. He nodded once, agreeing for the sake of his life. Her rigid calm after what she’d just done had Roy spooked. Not only had she killed that man, but she covered herself in his blood to take the next sucker who came by trying to help. She was more than dangerous.  

          She was frightening. 

          Felicity led him deeper into the Glades and to an abandoned house. It was a bit of a mess, but sturdy. He could tell she had been living in it for some time, and he wasn’t about to be ungrateful for her showing it to him. 

          “You can stay here if you’d like. There’s heat if you find enough wood to light a fire. Food’s in the cupboard if you’re hungry, but don’t snoop.” She picked up the hem of her dress and pulled it off (so that’s why it was so loose), revealing a slim leather outfit with well-worn boots and a flexible corset. She turned enough for him to see that there was a pair of knives sheathed up the back of the strings.  _There still is in her current one._  

          “Where are you going?” 

          “Out. If you snoop, I’ll know. Watch out for my traps unless you feel like losing an eye.” 

          Roy watched her slip out into the night as she slung a thick cloak over her shoulders. He couldn’t help but notice how she disappeared so quickly from sight. He’d waited hours for Felicity to come back, simply sitting on her bed and wringing his hands. He didn’t know why he was so worried, but there was just something about her that was a little endearing. Not a whole lot – considering the whole knife thing and the cold intelligence behind her eyes – but a little. 

          By the time she had returned, it was nearly six in the evening and Roy had eaten almost everything he could find. “Where’ve you been all day?”  

          “Working.” 

          Roy supposed that it was some sort of code for shaking people down or pick-pocketing them in broad daylight, but he wasn’t about to protest. She’d likely brought something back. 

          “Are you hungry?” 

          Roy nodded fiercely, slipping off the bed in the corner to join her at the door. She looked down at him with something like kindness in her gaze. Surprisingly enough to Roy, he didn’t feel like he was being pitied. She sat him down at the table and passed him a large chunk of bread and a piece of cheese. He wolfed them down before remembering his manners. Or what he had of them. He wiped his face a little nervously, making a face as he looked around. 

          “How do you keep this house?” 

          Felicity smiled softly, and for the first time since meeting her, Roy thought that her name fit. “I’ve had a lot of practice at this life, Roy.” 

          He took the answer for the dismissal that it was and dug in when she put more food down in front of him. She looked though the cupboard, nodding and mumbling to herself as if she’d expected what she found.  

          Roy kept living with her for a long time after that, even when she let him back out on his own. It took a long time for her to be content with the meat on his bones. Almost a year, in fact. By that point, Roy finally understood how it was that she was able to care for the both of them. He had watched her put on her nicest dress (which didn’t look quite right to him) and she left the house. He had followed her into the brighter streets of Starling and watched her approach men. She would smile and flirt and touch, and then she’d decline them.  

          She’d turned away from one man and spotted Roy watching from the alley, but she chose to ignore it. He supposed she thought it would be good for him to go unnoticed even by her own eyes. At about noon, she joined him in the alley and walked him back home. Roy tried to come up with something to ask as she took off her classy overcoat. 

          “What were you doing?” 

          She chuckled, lifting a layer of her dress and letting a large bunch of pocket purses fall to the ground. “Just lifting some change.” It was a good haul, and she was probably the best black-hand he’d ever seen. 

          After that, Roy had been determined not to make her work so hard. He ran his own little cons and used his small size to his advantage. Felicity said that he still might grow somewhat, so he worked fast. He tried to be home before she was, and he even learned how to break into her stash so he could put his haul in without her noticing. He was sure that she did, but he liked to feel like he was contributing. Felicity looked happier, and she wasn’t having to commit so many crimes. Roy, on the other hand, loved the adrenaline rush. He was helping Felicity and burning off a little of his anger at the world. 

          That’s why he stayed (mostly), and that’s why he’s still with her now. They’ve cared for each other ever since, so it can’t hurt to alleviate the stress she must be feeling. She earned his trust even as skeptical as he was at times, and it was the best decision he ever made. There’s nothing quite like having a doting surrogate sibling like Felicity. At least his life is always interesting.

          He puts down his weapons stash in the hold of the Azalea, heading back up to find Yao Fei. He and his daughter are usually the first people to return, so it wouldn’t be remiss of him to check their bunks. 

          Roy knocks on the door, calling out for Yao Fei. “Hey, we gotta have your opinion on something.” 

          The door opens and Yao Fei nods. “Yes?” 

          “The rain is picking up and Captain Smoak told me to ask you if we would be able to get out of here.” 

          He steps out onto the deck, climbing up a little way on the ropes. The wind tosses the boat a little, but he stays firmly planted on his perch. Roy watches him carefully. He makes minutes motions out there and breathes in the air around him. Roy has never understood what that kind of thing meant, but Yao Fei hasn't steered them wrong yet.

          “So, what’s the news?” 

          Yao Fei drops down. “We stay. Least three days.” 

          Roy sighs. “Felicity is not going to be happy about that.” 

          “Perhaps not, but she will live to tell about it. No honor in risking crew in avoidable storm.” He answers, patting Roy on the shoulder and heading back to his bunk.  

          Roy gets to work, securing everything he can. “Sorry, Smoak. I guess luck just isn’t on our side.” 


	7. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Make the Plan  
> Follow the Plan  
> Expect the Plan to go off the rails  
> Throw away the plan.  
> *grins evilly*

          Felicity has a bit of skip in her step, a good-sized pouch of gold from the commodore’s desk safely in her possession. Despite Diggle’s misgivings, they most definitely did have time to search the desk. She takes a particular kind of joy in proving the man wrong considering how often he’s usually right. Dig is a little miffed, but he’ll just have to deal with it when she buys herself a new weapon. 

          Felicity hums to herself as Diggle walks slowly down the street with her. She’s in a particularly good mood considering everything they’ve found. The layout of the encampment on Lian Yu is in their possession, and Felicity thinks she has a very good idea of how to get Oliver back when they return. The only question is how long it’ll be before they get there, since the weather seems determined to drown them. It’s already washing some things down the sloping streets. 

          Diggle is watching their surroundings just as much as she is, but he isn’t near as subtle about it. He’s known for quite a while that Felicity doesn’t need his protection, but it doesn’t change his instincts. Something feels wrong about their little side trip. Like it was too easy. 

          “Dig.” 

          He glances down at her. “Yeah?” 

          “What do we tell Oliver about this?” 

          He sighs, shaking his head a little as he debates their options. “Well, if you managed to get a copy of the order and you’re keeping it on the ship, probably everything. If you’re going to keep Yao Fei out of it and keep it blank, saving it for convenient future blackmail, I’d say nothing. If you feel a particularly strong need to be honest with Oliver, but not an overwhelming desire to let him seek revenge, leave the letter somewhere safe.” 

          “That’s not an answer. I asked you what to do.” 

          “You know what to do.” 

          She sighs, turning a corner to get to the port more quickly. “In theory. I’m an improviser, but I’ve never been in something like this before. There is a conspiracy here which left us as the middlemen and Oliver as a loose end.” 

          “I don’t think those soldiers on the island care much about who Oliver is.” 

          “No, but they do have a specific goal in mind, and if Oliver threatens that in any way, they might get rid of him. I know that he’s not my responsibility, but it’s our fault he’s there.” 

          Diggle hums. “Well… those cuffs do mark him as your captive, so he kind of is your responsibility. Maybe you’d pay a sizable sum for aid in his return.” 

          “Are you really suggesting hiring out for more hands to get Oliver back? Our lives aren’t cheap, Dig.” 

          Diggle stops her in her tracks, resting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s heavily fortified, Felicity. This mission isn’t for capture, and it definitely isn’t for a score. We can take it with the hands we have, but wouldn’t it be that much safer for us and Oliver if we had more people to help?” 

          “What if they find out who he is and report us? We’ll never get to rest if they think we’re holding Oliver hostage. His mother is a rich baroness with more money than she knows what to do with, and I wouldn’t put it past any deckhand for hire to turn us in for the profit. I promise you she would pay more for the return of her son than we would ever be able to.” 

          Heaving a sigh, Dig hesitantly agrees. “I hadn’t thought of that yet.” 

          She nods. “Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it. I just don’t think the odds are in our favor.” 

          He knows her well enough to figure that she’s already thought of every possible scenario that played out well for them. His guess is that there aren’t many. He also knows that she’ll figure something out. He wits are as sharp as her steel, and any self-respecting pirate knows it. Somehow, she’s made her name known without giving any indication as to whether or not she’s a man. Diggle has always been impressed by that. 

          They arrive at the ship and Roy slides down from the crow’s nest. “Hey. I’ve been waiting on you guys.” 

          Felicity doesn’t like the look on his face. “What’s the news?” 

          “Yao Fei says we should stay put. He also said something about honor, but I wasn’t paying any attention.” 

          “Of course you weren’t.” 

          She accepts Yao Fei’s suggestion with more grace than Diggle had expected. What shocks him even more is the fact that she starts giving shifts of shore leave. He narrows his eyes at her, but she pretends not to notice. Something has changed since the commodore’s office, and now he’s wondering what exactly it is. 

          “Captain.” 

          She turns, finding Slade only a foot behind her. She peers up at him, but by the way Slade reacts, he would be taking a step back if he were anyone else. “Yes?” 

          “I found a well-paying job, but there’s a problem.” 

          “Which is?” 

          He hesitates. “There’s a man in London who wants us to take down a cargo ship. Says anything we take is fair game. It’s headed to Spain, and if we chose to take it, we’ll intercept and then report back to my contact.” 

          “So, it’s not a we-can-put-this-off kind of job.” 

          “No, but the pay promised is something we would be unwise to refuse.” 

          Felicity sighs. “We’re stuck here for a little while anyway, so let’s see what you’ve got. It’ll take the cargo ship about a month to make its way over, so we have time to calculate. You can explain everything to me in my quarters.” 

          Diggle follows them, really having nothing better to do unless someone breaks something. Seeing as Oliver isn’t onboard, that’s far more unlikely than it has been as of late. For reasons unknown, he finds himself missing the trouble. With a bit of a chuckle to himself, he realizes it’s a lot like missing an old pair of boots. They aren’t really useful, but the wearer keeps them around anyway. For sentimental reasons, if nothing else. 

          It’s with that knowledge that Diggle remembers just how easily said old boot has slipped from Felicity’s mind at the news that they have to stay in Starling. 

          “Okay, Slade. What’s the setup here?” 

          The first mate listens with rather spotty attention, but neither of his companions notice. They plan the whole job out, Diggle’s mind elsewhere for the first time in a long time. He’s running through all the things that could possibly redirect his captain’s attention as if she hadn’t been hot on the trail back to Lian Yu only hours before. 

          “Dig.” 

          He startles. “Captain.” 

          Felicity lifts a brow in amusement. “Did you hear anything we just said?” 

          Slade looks mildly bemused, not usually seeing Diggle at a loss. Smoak dismisses Slade with orders to make space for the haul in the hold. Slade pats Diggle’s shoulder on the way by. 

          “Not to worry, mate. It’s a good plan.” 

          Where Slade is involved, Dig isn’t really sure he understands the concept of a good plan. However, Felicity had to agree to it first, so it must be at least semi-decent. He sits down in Slade’s vacated seat and Felicity gets up to open a window. She’s always liked to watch the sunrises.  

          “So, this plan of yours and Slade’s. I’m going to guess that it works into your plans somehow.” 

          She smiles at him, settling back into her chair and leaning over the map. “It’s actually fairly brilliant, but sometimes I think we forget that Slade has a very tactical mindset. We’re right here in Starling.” She says, tapping on the map. “The cargo ship is leaving London tomorrow according to Slade’s contact. Since Yao Fei says we’ll be here for a couple of days, that means it’ll give that ship time to make the open ocean. We’ve calculated out how far they’ll be based on their trajectory from their port and the speed of an average ship.” 

          “We’re running an intercept course?” 

          “Exactly. This will make it easier for us to travel once we take the supplies. After we intercept, we head straight to Lian Yu, which means….?” Felicity trails off, her tone a little smug. 

          He chuckles, a shocked huff leaving his mouth. “Which means that we’ll pretending to be an unscheduled cargo ship on our way to the encampment. We’ll find a set of navy sails while we’re stuck in port and then use that to get us into the base on Lian Yu.” 

          “Precisely.” she answers, seeming a little proud. She can see the hint of doubt on his face. “We both know it’s our best chance.” 

          “What happens if we’ve misjudged the distance? Even a few hours change will be the difference of success or failure. Anything between us and London on the open ocean is a risk. Any number of accidents could happen, or the boat could be delayed.” 

          “Which is why we’re kind of counting on the ship to be on time. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve run this race, John” 

          He inclines his head in acknowledgement. “I agree. It’s worked for us in the past. And yet, this still feels shockingly convenient. We need work to get supplies and suddenly there’s a cargo ship full of resources for us to steal and put to good use,” 

          “There are always cargo ships running around.” 

          He hums. “Yeah, I suppose. I think waiting around here is making me a little antsy and paranoid.” 

          Felicity grins, her next words smug. “Now who doesn’t like being on the land?” 

          “Fair point.” John laughs, lifting his hands in defeat. 

          Felicity hops up from her seat, seeming chipper for the first time in days. She does a happy little spin that reminds Diggle of her younger days again. “Three days from now, we’ll be shoving our black hands into British goodies.” 

          John coughs, but Felicity doesn’t seem to care.  

          “I suppose in light of this development, we should look for some sails, eh?” 

          Diggle agrees, following her out onto the deck where the crew is working right along. She organizes and finishes up anything ship-wise that still needs to be done and then sets up two groups to go find a new set of sails. Roy, Slade and Yao Fei take one side of the port while Dig, Shado and Felicity search the other. Felicity is thrilled when they find a set of topsails that will do nicely, and she’s definitely glad Diggle is with them. She and Shado would have struggled to carry it all by themselves.  

          Now all that’s left is to keep Lance off their scent until they can leave port, hope the other group found some lower sails, and intercept that cargo ship in roughly five days’ time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I've been a bit distracted. Finals are quite literally right around the corner and I've been trying to get everything in order. My next post might be another little shortie like this one, but I promise to be as quick as humanly possible. :)


	8. Networking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait you guys, but it was so worth it. I have officially graduated!

          Quentin Lance has never been one to sit around and do nothing when he’s got a lead. Felicity has always brought trouble with her, and he’s never been inclined to ask just what kind of trouble she gets into when she’s not in town. He’s got guts, but he’s quite certain that Ms. Smoak would spill them without remorse if he threatened her operations. That’s why he’s never tried. 

          Now, he’s got more than enough reason to chase the thieving pirate down. She lied straight to his face about his daughter, and he’s not about to let that go. If she wanted him to leave her alone, she shouldn’t have spooked and bolted out his doors so fast. He’d never corner her, but he’ll definitely scope out the port where she’s docked and try to catch her alone.  

          He only has to hope that she doesn’t tear his throat out. She came close enough the first time they met. He’s never known someone as conniving as her at the age of twelve. 

          Lance has never known anyone as cold-blooded, either. 

          As was the custom of Starling, it was cold and full of rats. The sun was even shining that day, but none of the heat ever touched the city streets. The only warm ones were the rich. _Not much has changed_. 

          Lance had been on a routine patrol of the docks with his unit, his blues neatly pressed and his boots shiny for the first time in weeks. It had been the first time that his department had caught a break in quite some time. 

          It figures that something would have disrupted the quiet, really. 

          A small figure pattered down the street, and it took Lance a moment to place it as a small girl. She kept looking behind her as if she was being chased, so much so that she ran straight into Lance. She shrieked, trying to pull away when he grabbed her arms. 

          “Hey, it’s okay, kid.” 

          “Let go!” 

          Quentin’s partner leans against the wall, shaking his head. “Just another street rat, Lance. Let her be.” 

          “Well, obviously somethin’ scared her. If we can help, we should.” 

          She calms a bit, but still twists her arms to get out of his grasp. Quentin lets go and she spares yet another glance behind her. “What’s it gonna cost me, beak runner?” 

          “Cost you?” Lance looked to his partner, shocked at finding such a cynical little girl. “Nothing, all right?” 

          Her expression scrunched as she considered. “You promise?” 

          He smiled at her reassuringly. “I promise, okay? Now, what’s your name, kid?” 

          “Name’s Megan.” 

          Lance had gotten the feeling that she made the name up, but he wasn’t really offended. She didn’t have to trust him, since he was a stranger. “Okay, Megan. What were you running from? Was there someone chasing you?” 

          She nodded, tearing up a little. “There was this strange man, and I dunno what he wanted-” 

          “Can you show us where?” 

         Megan shook her head, pulling away from him to keep running. Quentin’s partner – Daniel – stopped her. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll keep you safe, but we need to know where he is so we can stop him, all right?” 

          She tried to squirm away from him too. “You can’t promise that, so let go!” 

          Lance put a hand on her shoulder, effectively stopping her for a moment. “We can’t let that guy get away, kid. It’s not safe. Don’t you suppose that other girls just like you would want to be safe as well?” 

          She sniffed, nodding. Lance was so caught up with protecting her, he almost didn’t notice when her hands moved. Almost. “Hey!” 

          Megan ducked his reaching fingers, making a break for a nearby alley with both of their gold pouches in hand. Quentin called after her, giving chase. Daniel scowled, leaping over a pair of tipped boxes only to find that the girl was nowhere to be seen on the other side. Quentin was already around the corner, following her into alley after alley.  

          “Stop!” 

          He pulled his flintlock, firing off to her side. She shouted in surprise, halting in her tracks. Lance approached with caution, reloading his weapon as he came around her front. She carefully raised her hands at her sides, the pouches she took from them nowhere to be seen.  

          “That was a stupid move, Megan. We were just tryin’ to help you and you spat in our faces.” 

          She lifted her eyes to his. Where he expected to find fear, he found icy determination. “No. What you were doing was playing right into my hands. Don’t believe every sob story you hear, peeper.” 

          “I knew you Glades kids were ballsy, but stealing from the royal police? That’s downright idiotic.” 

          She huffed, intelligence glittering in her young eyes. “What’s idiotic is that you believe I won’t get away with it.” 

          “Where’s the gold, kid?” 

          “Why would I tell you that? It’s not as if you can shoot me. I’m unarmed.” 

          “I could always tell them I was provoked. How about that, Megan?” 

          She smiled, the ice in her gaze unwavering. She wasn’t afraid of him at all. Lance’s grip on his weapon tightened and his aim steadied, but she still seemed as if she had him right where she wanted him. It was startling to be intimidated by a girl half his height, but he knew for a fact that she was going to try something. His intuition was practically screaming at him to keep his distance. 

          'Megan' kept her hands raised, but somewhere between that computing and him noting the chill in the air, she had pushed his gun aside and knocked him onto his back. 

          She kept him down, one leg pinning his left hand by his side and one hand holding onto his other wrist. Her free hand went for his throat, anger burning in her expression. With a sick feeling, Quentin realized that this girl looked right around his youngest daughter’s age.  

          “What do you want from me?” Lance growled. 

          “From you? Nothing except your gold. If you try to catch me, I won’t be so nice the next time.” 

          Lance choked a bit as she pressed her hand more forcefully against his throat. “What are you even doin’ out here? Don’t you got family or somethin’? It’s not right for you to be out here on your own.” 

          “Who are you to decide what’s right for me? I don’t even let my own mother decide that.” 

          “But you got one, huh? Why aren’t you with her?” 

          Her lips drew into a thin line, the action shockingly adult. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.” 

          Lance didn’t have a chance to ask what that was supposed to mean before her tiny fist was in his face. His last thoughts before losing consciousness were that the girl was terrifying for her age and that he would never hear the end of this from Daniel. 

          It’s not every day that someone takes down Quentin Lance, and it’s definitely not done by a sixty-pound brown-haired girl. 

         Quentin gives himself a shake, the haze of memory leaving him. He mutters to himself over the danger of even being close to her, but he needs to find out what she knows. He can’t just let her get away without knowing about Sarah’s death. And Felicity  _does_ know. That much is clear. 

          The port where the Azalea is docked is dark, and more than a little secluded. He would be willing to bet that she paid the dockmaster to keep her presence quiet. Felicity may be many things, but unobservant isn’t one of them. She knows exactly who to pay off to keep things quiet, and the dockmaster has been her friend for a long time. Lance isn’t quite sure how long, but that guy has thrown him off her scent too many times for them not to go back a long way. Usually, she’s not enough of a bother to get an order from the commodore.  

          “So, Officer Lance. Can I ask you what you’re doing down at the docks in the middle of the night?” 

          Lance almost jumps out of his skin, turning to find Felicity behind him. “Could you stop that?” 

          “I’m busy, so tell me what you want before I take my crew and get out of here.” 

          Quentin huffs, making a face that says something like ‘yeah, right’. “You’re not going anywhere for a little while, and you’ve been here at least a day already. I saw the payment in the dockmaster’s booth. You should know that he’s using that money to gamble.” 

          “What do I care what he uses it for so long as he keeps snooping and prying people like you out of my business. As I recall, I told you not to stick your nose in my operations.” she answers, a veiled threat in her tone. “Not everyone who gets past the dockmaster survives even if they do make it to my ship.” 

          “Have that many enemies, do you?” 

          She smirks, though her hand still hovers by the flintlock at her side. It looks like it cost a small fortune, but he would guess she crafted it herself. “Not more than I have friends.” 

          “Duly noted.” 

          Felicity raises a brow. “So, I assume this is about Sarah?” 

          “You’d be right. I’m not about to let you leave before you tell me what you know.”  

          “Why does it matter?” 

          Lance scoffs, lifting a shaky to rub a hand over his face. “It’s my  _daughter_ , Smoak. How can’t it matter?” 

          “I don’t know where she is, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

          “No, but you know _something_! That’s more than what I had before, and I will find out what happened. I don’t care if I have to arrest your crew, but I will find out.” 

          Felicity’s brow furrows and he realizes that he just threatened her. Before he knows just what he’s gotten himself into, he’s pinned against the hard stone of the lighthouse. “How many times do I have to tell you not to meddle where you don’t belong? If you were anyone else, I would have run you through and saved myself the trouble.” 

          “Then why not? Why haven’t you done it, eh?” 

          “Because, despite my better judgement, I like you, Lance.” 

          Lance scowls at her, but he doesn’t attempt to free himself. He doesn’t much feeling like dying. “Why? Because I’m useful?” 

          “You’re honest.” 

          “One of us has to be.” 

          Her jaw clenches and Lance knows that he’s struck a nerve. It may not have been his best decision, but he had to get a rise out of her somehow. Reminding her of the life she chose for herself is perfect. 

          Felicity backs off a little, her arm pulling back as she strikes his jaw. 

           _Maybe a little too perfect_. 

          Lance reels, stumbling to the deck and glancing up at her as she hisses a response. “I’d advise you to not make any comments about my line of work, officer.” 

          “Then tell me what I want to know.” 

          She pulls her sword within the blink of an eye and rests the tip just under his chin. He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling away as much as he dares. Felicity moves forwards just a step and Lance falls back, her sword maintaining its place under his jaw. 

          “Well?” he growls, breathing carefully through his nose. He always forgets just how close to death he comes when they meet.  

          “I can’t tell you much because I didn’t see it.” 

          Steeling his gaze, Lance nods in a slight motion. “Just tell me what you can.” 

          “As far as I know, she went down with the Queen’s Gambit. So did the two Queens onboard.” 

          “What happened? Can you give me that?” 

          Felicity sighs. “From what I heard? A rogue pirate ran her through. She died and then he dumped the body.” 

          “Just the one man? That's for sure?” 

          “That’s what I heard.” 

          Quentin knows that he shouldn’t be pushing his luck with the most dangerous woman in Starling holding him at sword-point, but it’s about his daughter. He has to know. “His name? Do you have a name?” 

          She’s quiet for a moment, as if deciding what to tell him. He knows that she doesn’t want him to go off and get himself killed chasing the guy down, but she also knows that he won’t leave her alone unless she gives him something. After a few more seconds of silence, she raises her eyes to his and clenches her jaw. She doesn’t want to tell him, but she’ll save herself a whole lot of trouble if she does. 

          “I don’t have his name, but he has a title to those in our line of work. A moniker, if you will.”

          “What is it?” 

          “Deathstroke. They call him Deathstroke.” 


	9. Recruitment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. I got a little caught up in writing Marvel fics again, but I figured I had to put in some time for another chapter of this.

         Diggle won’t say that he doesn’t have his doubts about the plan. He likes to think realistically, so he generally has his doubts about any plan, but Felicity makes a habit of pulling off what he feels is impossible. Odd jobs here and there and a heist or two in between leaves them well enough off to survive on the open ocean. Diggle was never dumb enough to assume that Felicity was a run of the mill pillaging and plundering pirate.  

          No. To him, she was a thief first, and a damn good one for being sixteen.

          Diggle had been in the army for a long time. It had been an experience he was keen to forget. Both times. He came home and started working at the docks for better pay and boring days. As good as that was, he quickly became irritated with his work and left for London. That was where he first started doing private security for the upper class. It paid even better, and yet watching the rich suck the souls out of people with taxes and money-waving wore him down. Still, it was the closest to a battle he could get without going back into the trenches of war. It seemed that he was made for times of trouble, and even when he hid, it found him. 

          That’s how he ended up guarding some kid named William Jones. He was supposed to be some kind of genius even at his young age. (He figures now that Felicity could be unconscious and still have more wits about her.) At the time, Diggle hadn’t thought much of him. His mother had said that he’s planning a trip the India, but John had his doubts about that. He’ll likely attend some ridiculously lavish college. Though, it was a comfort to know that his sympathies rested closer to American values over those of the English, even if many of his race were slaves across the pond. 

          Not that it mattered. Little did John know, the genius in progress was about to be robbed by the one and only Felicity Smoak. 

          It was a dark night, made more decadent by music and festivities. The candlelight from the chandelier glowed golden down on the people as they danced. It was a fundraiser or sorts, though for what, Diggle didn’t care to find out.  

          While he was guarding the doors, Felicity walked in with her masquerade mask, Diggle writing her off as yet another rich baroness trying to throw money at problems. On her arm was none other than Roy Harper. They passed by without a second glance, being announced as “Victoria Halworth and escort, Jacob Valen”. Felicity had colored her hair black a year or so before, but for the event she cleaned it with the most expensive soap she could find to make it look as if she belonged.  

          Felicity’s mask was a cat and Roy’s a fox, both disguises made with dark colors to shadow their faces more thoroughly. The lace was some of the best work Felicity had done, but she was sure Roy didn’t appreciate it as much as she did - she kept them as trophies since the job went well. Roy didn’t even want to wear a disguise, instead proposing the ‘break in through the windows” method (because he was boring). Felicity, on the other hand, knew that she could make some extra money if she had the chance to dance with a few other people. She taught Roy to dance so they could go through with her plan.  

          It wasn’t his favorite lesson. 

          Felicity swayed through the ocean of people, dancing with as many men as she could. There were far more lonely strangers at the party than there had any right to be. With their wallets and pouches under the folds of her dress, she ensured that they would stay that way.  

          After about an hour of mingling, Felicity and Roy joined back up. Felicity’s haul was considerably larger, but she had a lot more practice. “I’ve had my eye on the guards. The only one who looks like trouble is the one by the door.” 

          “So, how do we take him out?” 

          Felicity eyed him. “I don’t think we do.” 

          “What, we just let him catch us? I don’t think being renowned thieves in the future includes getting caught.” 

          “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.” 

          Roy glanced over his shoulder, smiling a bit to throw off any watching eyes. “I don’t think you’ll be able to flirt with this one to get what you want. He seems pretty determined to stand there all night, and Cooper is waiting for us to get back to the hideout.” 

          “This guy has been at every important function that we have, and I’ve got a good read on him. Cooper can cool his heels.” 

          “He won’t like that.” 

          Felicity glares a bit. “He doesn’t get a say. He found us the job and brought us here on his ship, but he never said how I had to run the game. That means my rules.” 

          Roy scoffs a bit. “Don’t you suppose he’s just using you for your brain, then? The way you run things always gets him the most money.” 

          “I’d considered it, but isn’t that the goal?” 

          Before Roy had a chance to respond, Felicity twirled away from him, leaving him by the wall under the guise of getting another drink. She said hello to a few more people, and Roy didn't miss the careful lifts she executed by throwing charm around. 

          She reached the dark-skinned guard, smiling at him with an air of confidence that most masks (like the weird horse in the corner) would be able to smother. “Evening, sir.” 

          “Madame.” 

          “Would you have a nice chat with me?” 

          He smiled down at her with practiced professionalism. “I’m afraid not.” 

          “See, but I think you should make an exception.” 

          “And why is that?” 

          Felicity leaned upwards, placing a careful hand on his arm. She didn't try to play him with her feminine wiles. He was far too intelligent for that, and still is. “I’m about to rob Mr. Jones for everything I can get my hands on. If you’re interested, I can pull you away from this bore of a place. Your employer, I believe, doesn’t appreciate you. They look down on you, but I can see that you’re smarter than they give you credit for. A soldier. A warrior.” 

          John scowled a little. “If this is you trying to patronize me-” 

          Honestly, the comment stung a bit. “Why would I do that? That would be an insult. I just need you to indulge me for a moment because we  _both_ know you’re more than this.” 

          He pushed her back a little bit, brows raising in surprise. “And you’re more than just a supporter.” 

          “Clearly.” 

          “And what makes you think that I won’t turn you in.” 

          Felicity let out a small laugh, but it was for show. “Tell me, John. All the parties you’ve been to where these people are practically swimming in money. That doesn’t make you want to liberate some of their funds?” 

          “Not when it makes me a criminal.” He paused for a moment. “I never told you my name.” 

          “You didn’t have to. I’ve been watching you, Mr. Diggle. I’ve found you to be a very interesting man.” 

          He took a moment to meet her eyes eve as the majority of her face was still covered by her mask. “And just what does your current ‘job’ entail? You seem quite certain that I’ll agree with you, but I have yet to be convinced.” 

          “I know, but I’ve piqued your interest, haven’t I?” 

          “I admit, I’m curious.” 

          Felicity hummed. “You have questions, I’d wager.” 

          “A few. Like how you’re going to rob my employer without me catching you.” 

          A small sound of amusement made its way out of Felicity. “How about I make you a deal?” 

          Diggle chuckled, not sure what he was getting himself into but interested nonetheless. “Such as?” 

          “I’m going to proceed with my plan. You can go about your job here as a people watcher. If you can catch me, then you can do whatever you please, but if I get away clean, you’ll meet me in front of the Old Burrow in exactly one hour.” 

          John considered it for a moment. “You're robbing Mr. Jones, but I don't know what for. Do I get to know your target?” 

          “Now where’s the fun in that?” She shrugged, seeming very self-assured. “What do you say, John? Do we have a deal?” 

          “Deal.” 

          Diggle narrowed his eyes a little, watching her as she turned around and disappeared into the crowd. He really could have turned her in, but he truly wanted to know what she’d do.  

          It wasn’t long before something happened. There was a loud shattering of glass and the crowd parted for the guards. Diggle pushed his way through, no one making much accommodation for him. He spotted a man in a fox mask kneeling over a girl, her unconscious form causing a scene. John was the last guard there, but he was the first to turn her onto her side.  

          “Everyone stay back. Give us some space.” 

          No one really listened. He glanced up at one of the other guards and the man accepted the silent plea, telling the people to back up and getting his partner to help. Diggle checked on the girl, finding that she wasn’t hurt in any way. If it weren’t for what he had learned moments before, he would have thought she was blackout drunk. 

          He put a couple fingers into the liquid of her drink where it was spilled on the floor, lightly smelling the contents and looking around for the perpetrator. The man in the fox mask had disappeared and somehow John knew that he was in on it.  

          His gaze swept the room when he saw “Victoria” waving with a Cheshire grin on her face, fox-face right behind her. He told the two other guards to stay with the girl and raced after the pair. At the top of the steps and around the corner leading to William’s wing of the house, he found a lampstand knocked over to trip him. By the time he reached William’s room, William was tied to the bed and the wall safe was empty. John glared at the window where the woman from before was smiling brightly, dress hiked up for a leap off the balcony. 

          “See you soon, John.” 

          He ran for the railing, but by the time he reached it, she had disappeared into the night with her partner and likely the wallets of every man inside. With an amused chuckle, he supposed it would be safe to meet her considering he was probably about to lose his job. 

          He approached his employer where he was trussed up on the bed, removing the gag. He coughed and sputtered and ultimately sneered at John. “You’re fired.” 

          “Yes, sir.” In response to the hiss, Diggle turned to the door.  

          “Don’t you leave me here!” 

          John glanced back at him, lifting his chin a little. “Seeing as I’m no longer employed by you, I do believe I am free of my obligation to help. Good night, Mr. Jones. Best of luck.” 

          With that, he left the building and immersed himself in the shadows of soot-stained walls. He should have known she’d escape, but back then he had underestimated her. Everyone did.  

          At an hour past their exchange, Diggle stood ready and waiting for her. He watched everywhere around him carefully, but even with his caution, she spooked him from behind. Her dress was gone, swapped out for close-fitting leather with two blades resting at her sides. She had another knife in her hand, cutting off a slice from the apple she carried. It seems she had just as much a flare for the dramatic then as she does now. There was a brief moment of silence before he decided she must have come from the back alley.  

          “So? Have you thought about my offer?” 

          “I have.” 

          She stuck out her hand, offering it to him to shake. He took it, smiling warmly at her. For some reason, he had the distinct impression that she was very considerate and reasonable for a thief. An odd impression, but one that he was glad and still is glad that he trusted. 

          “Good. My real name is Felicity Smoak.” 

          He tilted his head acknowledgement. “John Diggle, but you already know that.” 

          “Yes, yes I do. Are you ready to meet the crew?” 

          “Crew?” 

          She laughed, and this time it was a real one. “Don’t worry. We’re civilized.” 

          Diggle gestured for her to lead the way. “Then by all means. I’m ready to see what we’re doing.” 

          To this day, he still thinks that it's the best wager he'd ever made with someone. Felicity has been a blessing, whether she thinks so or not. Her past aside, John knows just how good of a person she is. They may be on the wrong side of the law most days, but Felicity is someone he can trust to keep both him and the crew out of trouble. 

          Diggle looks to his captain where she stands on the railing of the ship, staring out at the sea where their charge is waiting to be rescued. Steadfast and hardy, Felicity has made herself into something more. She may be young, but she has an almost calming sort of wisdom to her. Some would call it worldly, and others stark intellect. While both are true and fit her more than she knows, John thinks that it's just Felicity. She has strength, but also peace. 

          Because of that, he would follow her anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the wait. Thank you for being so patient!


	10. When the River Runs Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! Thank you for being so patient! :)

          It’s been nearly two weeks now. They want Oliver to think that it’s been longer, but he knows just how much Fyers wants to confuse him so that he’ll give up the information he’s supposed to know. They still just can’t seem to get past the exchanging names phase, and Oliver does note that it’s pretty much consistent with previous experience. Fyers hates it. 

          The tent flap opens and Fyers steps inside, the masked man right next to him. The pompous military man clasps his hands in front of him, crouching down to analyze Oliver. “You know, I think I may just believe you now.” 

          Oliver shrinks from his touch, but only to let Fyers think he’s got him scared. When he puts out a hand to touch Oliver’s face in a taunting manner, Oliver bites him. Fyers stumbles back, growling as he clutches his now-bleeding finger. The masked man swings a boot into Oliver’s ribs and Oliver yelps. He leans to guard himself as well as possible, still tied to the tent post where they had left him two days ago.  

          “My friend, I do believe it is time to cut our losses.” 

          Oliver squirms as his captor nears, but everything hurts too much to keep at it. The man in the mask lets Oliver tire himself out while he attempts to kick at him. He swallows down a whimper as he’s picked up with rough hands, his body protesting any kind of movement.  

          “To the ring. We’ll show him how to die with honor.” 

          For the most part, he’s dragged there. He knows he doesn’t have a much of a margin for error, but his moment is coming. He has to believe that. He’ll escape soon. With the cover of darkness on his side, he might even make it. 

          The ring is a large circle of men. Oliver is thrown into the center and he crashes onto his side, struggling to balance. He staggers to the right upon gaining his feet and drops back to one knee. With a heavy groan, Oliver stands up again, swallowing in an effort to calm himself down.  

          Fyers points to Oliver with his sword. “Unchain him. We’ll see just what we’re dealing with.” 

          “S’ not a fair fight.” Oliver spits. 

          “Life, Mr. Queen, is not fair. The only thing that has proven itself to be so is chance. Given yours, I say let’s get on with this.” 

          Oliver can’t resist stretching a bit when they pull the chains from his wrists. Captain Smoak’s cuffs remain. He’s learned in the last couple of weeks that he has a lot to thank her for. The way she kept him in the dark and even her own brand of imprisonment were instrumental in keeping Oliver safe. It is curious, though. He wonders how many lies he’s been told in an effort to protect him. 

          “You will fight, Mr. Queen.” 

          Oliver flinches as something is tossed his way, only stooping to pick it up when he realizes that it’s a sword. They toy with him, knocking the sword from his hand and dodging his blows with laughter. He can’t fight well in his condition, and even if he was healthy, it likely wouldn’t go well. Still, Fyers watches him from outside the ring.  

          “Someone tried to teach you.” 

          Oliver straightens, turning to Fyers as he gestures for his opponent to back off. “So?” 

          “You’re terrible, but... the grace of another hand is clear. You wouldn’t have lived this long otherwise. So, even though we’re finished with you, I don’t suppose you’d tell us who?” 

          Oliver sighs, smiling a bit. “Eat me.” 

          “Very well.”  

          Oliver readies himself, wincing as a couple new cuts sting in the open air. He can hear Captain Smoak coaching him over his shoulder as she tells him to look for openings. It takes a little bit of time, but Oliver finally sees a way out of the circle. He’s exhausted and he doesn’t have much energy left, but it’s the one chance he’ll have. 

          He takes it. 

          With a wild kind of shout, Oliver hurls himself between two people, shocking them enough to make them dive out of the way. He hurtles into the trees as fast as his battered body will allow. Oliver knows it’s a relatively small island, all things considered, but it seems to go on forever. He skids to a stop when he reaches the edge of a canyon, judging the distance to be too far and running along its edge in search of a narrower gap. If he wasn’t able to see in dark places as he’s become accustomed, he’d have likely fallen to his death. 

           He reaches a waterfall instead, making his way clumsily up the slope and across the rock bed. The water is freezing on Oliver’s bare feet, but he can’t afford to stop and attend to them.  

          “Stop!” 

          Oliver halts in his tracks, turning to find three men behind him. Fyers is leading them, sword in hand. Oliver takes cautious steps back, swallowing. Fyers smiles as they reach the waterfall’s edge.  

          “Nowhere to go, Mr. Queen. You should have chosen the honorable way.” 

          He glances over his shoulder, the shallows below him a good thirty or forty feet down. Before he even has a chance to debate, a sharp pain in his side has him pinned in place. Fyers is now only inches from him, sword through Oliver with a hand on his shoulder.  

          “I told you we were finished, and I am a man of my word.” 

          He pulls his sword free, his grin widening as Oliver looks down with horrified revelation. Fyers pushes him back another step to the edge, but Oliver only looks up at him with pain in his expression.  

           Fyers leans up to Oliver’s ear to murmur one last thing to him. “I do admire a man willing to die for his cause, even if it does make you a sad little martyr.” 

          With that, he pushes Oliver over into the gap. He loses his grip on the sword in the fall, the torrent consuming him. Water rushes around his ears and fills his nose. The bottom comes fast and hard and Oliver doesn’t even realize what’s happened before he blacks out. The current drags him a little way, rolling him over a couple times and jostling him enough to bring him around sputtering. He digs his hands into the mushy ground of the stream, dragging himself onto the land with an agonized groan.  

          Moving with shaking hands and breath, he places his fingers on the wound. Oliver crawls closer to the canyon wall, keeping himself free of the water and more able to make his way to the outlet. He thought every movement was painful before, but he feels like he’s burning now. He forces himself to go on, even managing to make it to his feet despite his wound.  

          The outlet is a good sight. It’s enough of a relief that his body decides he’s finished for a while. Oliver collapses in the rocks, hand still hovering over his wound. He’s sweaty, filthy, and covered in his own blood. Even as tired as he is, he knows that he has to stop the bleeding. He lies there for a long time, taking deep breaths through his nose in an attempt to steady himself.  

          With a grunt, Oliver pushes himself back to his knees and makes his way over to a bush with rather large leaves. He pulls what’s left of his shirt free, ripping it up as evenly as possible. He falls onto his side in his struggling, his face pressing into soft earth that smells awfully familiar.  

          Oliver pants, simply breathing for a moment to see if he’s right. It takes him a few moments to place the scent as Yao Fei’s herbs. An experimental taste that leaves him coughing has him sure of it. He takes some of the big fronds from the bush and a few handfuls of herbs. He feels nauseous, but he makes his way over to the water anyway. Dizzy as he is, he manages to mash the herbs with a couple rocks, swallowing some just the way Yao Fei made him before spreading the rest of his entry and exit wounds. It’s hard to see what he’s doing in the dark, but it’s his only option.

          His head pounds as he wraps the shirt around himself and he hisses in pain as he puts pressure on the wounds with the flat leaves. It’s not as good as what Yao Fei did back on the ship, but it’ll have to do. His other cuts and scratches get a small coating of the paste, but not leaves. 

          With a kind of hazy appreciation, Oliver thinks he finally knows what the Feis mean by ‘sengshwun’. He pulls himself back against a pile of boulders, hiding himself as well as possible within their coverage. Leaning against a particularly large rock, Oliver hums to himself.  

          “Survive.” 

          While the thought is all well and good, Oliver still has to hope that he survives his wounds. As long as nothing too important has been ruptured, he just might stand a chance of waking up in the morning. 

          Nothing disturbs him throughout the night even with the smell of blood all around him. The herbs keep his wounds from becoming inflamed or infected throughout the period where a fever might have developed. True exhaustion chases away any nightmares he could have and he stays completely still and silent until morning.  

          He wakes with a start, wings fluttering nearby. His stomach rumbles and his side hurts, but otherwise he feels okay. Light shines down on his head through an opening in the canopy above him. He soaks it in, just quietly sitting until he feels that he has the energy to find somewhere safer. The warmth is a good change after two weeks of being cold, wet or both.  

          His biggest issue now is having enough food and water.  

          The fluttering of wings is close, and a bird call of some sort accompanies it. He crawls to his feet, wincing as a couple of his sword cuts pull awkwardly. He doesn’t dare remove his bandages yet, but it’ll have to be soon that he checks himself over.  

          The calling draws his attention again.  

         Stooping next to a bush, he finds a bird of some sort trapped beneath the brambles. He isn’t quite sure what to do with it, but all he knows is that he’s starving. He wishes he didn’t have to kill it, but then he remembers back in Starling, back _home_ , that he would eat quail and the finest meats without ever getting his hands dirty. It he’s willing to eat it as a rich man’s son, then perhaps he should be willing to kill it as someone with nothing.  

          For Oliver, it is now kill or be killed. There are no more options if he wants to survive. 

          As he’s moving the dead bird to a safe place, he spots his stolen sword a short distance away. He may not be able to hunt with it, but he’ll have a form of defense when he finds somewhere to hole up. He moves carefully in search of one such area, trying to avoid getting caught at all costs. In line with that kind of thinking, he moves away from the encampment. It takes quite a lot of walking to find a place, but he’s more than happy to enter the cave when he does. He drops his kill and a wrapping of herbs near the entrance, checking around it to make sure it’s out of the way.  

         He can't help his caution at finding a set of swords in the back of the space, but they’re old. He also finds a bow that looks like it hasn’t been used since the Dark Ages. A pile of razor-sharp rocks and what looks like arrow shafts has him curious, if not a bit freaked out. 

          “What kind of island is this?” 

          He picks up the bow, reminding himself of what Shado and Yao Fei were always saying about breathing. The draw is stiff, but the bow doesn’t threaten to snap so he takes it as a good sign. With a nice stash of weapons for his own protection, Oliver looks back to where the bird is waiting for him to start cleaning it. As much as it pained him to kill it, it would hurt a lot more to starve to death. 

          The plucking has to be his least favorite part. Or maybe it’s cutting the thing open. All the blood and squelching is almost too much for him. Even so, he is rewarded with a small amount for a meal if he can figure out how to build an effective fire without dying. Luckily for him, there isn’t much left in the cave to burn even if he does manage to start a fire. 

          If there’s one thing that he’s good at, it’s spitting in peoples’ faces. Next to the masked man, Fyers is right at the top of his list. If he can keep himself alive long enough, stabbing that man will be a very deserved justice for everything he’s done. 

         After he puts together a fire and waits for his meal to cook, he stares at the wall, dreaming of his eventual return to Starling City. Slade would tell him it’s foolish, and maybe it is, but right now that desire is what’s keeping Oliver alive.  

          Little did he know it would only be a matter of time before that dream was replaced, perhaps by something darker. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but I'm trying to take my time with this one. :) Hope you enjoyed it!


	11. Secrets and Cargo Ships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! *waves* Sorry about the wait. It took me forever to figure out what to do with this chapter. It's a bit slower paced, but hopefully provides some insight. Enjoy! :)

          It’s been two days since the crew of the Azalea set sail from the port in Starling. Felicity glances up at her royal sails, hating and loving them at the same time. They’re one step closer to rescuing Oliver, which in Felicity’s mind is progress she didn’t know she needed. She’s never liked sitting in harbors waiting for someone to come across them. At least in the open ocean, the have the Azalea’s tricks ready to go. Her ramming bulkhead is secure, the sharp crest running up the middle cutting through the water.  

          There’s a reason the Azalea is one of the best ships out there. Felicity wouldn’t accept anything less. How could she with the royal navy out roaming the waters? 

          With about three days until intercept, Felicity itches for a little action. Slade and Roy duel down on the main deck, Diggle, Shado and Yao Fei placing bets on the winner. Felicity is judging the fight, but she’s a little bored. Slade’s military experience would usually give him an advantage, but Roy was trained by Felicity. When Cooper was captain, she beat Slade multiple times. Felicity hasn’t had much time to duel since Cooper’s death. 

          Maybe that’s what she needs: a little fight to get the blood going. 

          It couldn’t hurt. 

          Roy, sadly, loses his match, but Slade has always been a gracious winner. He only mocks him a little bit before Felicity steps into their small ring. Slade straightens, tilting his head respectfully as she pulls out her own sword.  

          “Captain.” 

          “Slade.” 

          Diggle chuckles, leaning against the mast with his arms crossed. “I call the winner.” 

          The pair in the ring stalk around each other, Felicity smiling at Slade to put him on edge before the fight even begins. Slade clenches his jaw, puffing out a misty breath through his nose. It is a bit cold in the morning air, but it’s nothing they can’t handle. It’s the slick boards of the deck that require their attention.  

          Felicity makes the first strike, surprising pretty much everyone. Slade has never been one to let someone else press the advantage of a first blow, but it’s fairly clear he doesn’t want to get close to her. Every time he thinks he’s ready for her, she throws him for a loop. A feint and a teasing swat with her blade have Slade fuming just a little. Good. She needs a fight that’s worthwhile anyway. 

          Slade loses. Diggle doesn’t seem surprised. 

          Her first mate steps into the circle, relieving Slade and preparing himself for his inevitable defeat. He’ll make it hard for her.  

          Even engaged in the fight, her mind threatens to wander away. She has to remind herself that not moving fast enough could mean the death of her even if they are always careful not to injure each other.  

          When she wins, she retires to her bunk. 

          Eating doesn’t sound appealing, and now that she knows fighting isn’t going to take the edge off, getting her blood pumping doesn’t either. Reading is boring to her for right now, and playing cards is too slow.  

          She’s just... restless. 

          With a heavy sigh, she pulls Oliver’s empty book from a hidden pocket in her bodice. She traces the stamp in the front with her fingers, leafing through the blank pages. For some reason, the action is comforting. She doesn’t feel so alone while spending time with a book of unknown secrets. If it belonged to a man like Robert Queen, it’s bound to be important. Simply out of curiosity, she tastes the corner of one page. It doesn’t seem like anything special, just rich and smooth. The smell gives her the same idea. 

          Even with the reassurance that it’s a completely ordinary book, she can’t help but relish in the mystery. Before she even knows that she’s going to, she’s working out theories on every page. As a pirate, she knows a few tricks of her own. With her crew running the ship as smoothly as possible, she really has nothing better to do. Solving a mystery might just be exactly what she needs to calm her nerves and keep her mind off of what’s to come. 

          She tries five methods before she scoffs at herself for being so stupid. 

          A little fruit to keep her awake and the heat of her candle bring out just what she was looking for. “Clever little book of lies, aren’t you?” Felicity mutters.  

          The names that appear pique her interest even more, but considering her lack of resources, there’s no way she can find out who they are. As she reads over it, a few of the names strike her as familiar. She realizes why when the memory of robbing them comes to mind. 

          Curiosity sated and nerves quelled, Felicity finally drifts off to sleep after hiding the book. It’s been a while since she was fully able to decompress, and her worries have everything to do with it. Her exhausted brain won’t let her take anymore. Her sleep is dreamless, and the rocking of the ship helps to keep her in a state of serenity. She only wakes up because someone knocks on her door.  

          She officially has zero idea what time it is, or even what day. She sits up, rubbing her face. “What?” 

          Diggle pokes his head in, smiling as he sees her yawn. “Morning, Captain.” 

          “What is it? Are we there?” 

          “The cargo ship is in sight.” 

          Felicity gives herself a shake, her expression souring as she feels her hair. “Damn. How long was I asleep?” 

          “Two days. Plus a little more.” 

          That urges Felicity to her feet more than anything else. She ushers Diggle out so that she can change clothes, a new shirt and pants already laid out for her by Diggle. By anyone else, it’d be an invasion of privacy, but from him she can appreciate it. She really does love her surrogate siblings. The pain of being an only child from an absent mother apparently makes it fun to pick up strays. 

          If she had a little more time, she’d do a whole lot more than a quick brush of the rat’s nest she calls hair, but that’s the cost of her crew’s kindness. 

          When she steps out of her cabin, her crew looks thrilled to see her. Slade gestures with a hand around the ship, seeming more... chipper than usual. Chipper is not a common word used to describe Slade. “Behold, our work in your absence.” 

          As much of a stubborn pain in the ass Slade can be, when he wants her approval, he really goes for it. She supposes it’s his payment for the spur of the moment job. “It’s great. Thanks, guys.” 

          Slade, despite his manner, genuinely likes Felicity. He can respect her intelligence, and she's always glad for his experience. He can’t help but be confrontational considering he’s being ordered around by an eighteen-year-old. Sometimes, she can’t even blame him. Others... not so much. Those times are usually when he engages in his sadistic streak. Oh, well.

          A clean ship ready to take on anything puts her in a good mood. 

          She inspects it, teasingly telling her crew that they’ve missed a spot. Roy scowls, immediately asking where.  

          Felicity doesn’t dignify that with a response, instead climbing up on the ropes a little way to see the cargo ship. It’s a welcome sight after so much time spent thinking about the encounter. She calls down to Diggle to alter their course in order to launch a better attack from the side. Slade and Yao Fei take up their positions on portside, Shado up in the crow’s nest already. Diggle directs Roy up to the aft where a free rope dangles, waiting for someone to make use of it. Felicity takes up position next to him, trusting Diggle to hold the ship steady after impact.  

          In a small moment of nerves, she brushes a hand over her hair. She smiles at Roy when his eyes follow the action. “Ready?” 

          His crooked grin is all she needs as an answer. 

          The sails do their job, causing the other crew to believe that it’s safe to let them approach. They don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. The bulkhead shielding their bow hits hard, splitting the railing and punching a hole in the hull with the breaker just below the water. Screams of alarm fly past Felicity’s ears as she swings across to their ship. Shado picks off their guards and anyone else she has a good sightline on. Slade’s crossbow bolts sprout from the chests of a few raging crewmembers. Moving as quickly as she can, Felicity’s sword makes quick work of anyone trying to chase her. Roy takes over the helm.

          The deck is quiet in a short time even as the boat starts to keel. Felicity spares a glance towards the Azalea, noting that Diggle already has it paralleled with the cargo ship. Shado calls out a question in Mandarin, asking Felicity what to do. Felicity does one last sweep of the deck before answering back in kind. 

          “Stay put, but be ready for runners.” 

          Both she and Yao Fei confirm, hunkering down with bows peeking over the nearest edge. They’ll be ready for an attack if there is one. Felicity orders Slade and Diggle to cross over, Yao Fei moving to the nearest defensible position by the wheel. It’s a cautionary measure, but one that Felicity has employed since her takeover almost two years ago. She is really glad that Cooper was not around for when she met Shado and Yao Fei, despite the circumstances of his death. 

          As a team, they sweep the lower decks, taking the important cargo which would point out their royal ties. It takes a couple (too many) trips to get it all. Any guns, leather and ammo go out in Roy’s bag in the fifth and sixth passes. Slade picks up swords from whoever and wherever he can, knowing that Felicity will re-craft them if he asks nicely enough. Then he can sell them for a good number of shillings.  

          Any pocket purses in sight disappear with Felicity and Diggle, the money to be divvied out at a later point. Slade’s source may or may not be reliable, so they have to be paid somehow.  

          When Felicity can hear the hull cracking beneath her boots, she orders a retreat, swinging around with her loot and crossing the gangplank with swift feet. She won’t look at the water. That’s just asking for trouble. If she pretends it’s not there, then she can stay focused. She drops onto her own deck, shouting to Yao Fei to drop oars. Diggle takes Felicity’s haul down to the hold while she takes the wheel. Yao Fei gets started slowly, but Felicity’s mechanisms to move all the oars with one crank work smoothly. It takes Roy only a couple moments to drop sails and soon they're speeding away.

          She remembers the look on Diggle’s face when she told him that every oar they have could be run by one person. It used to be disheartening that Cooper never let her modify the ship when he was captain, but she has her way now. His betrayal still hurts sometimes, but she's glad to be rid of him.

          Felicity likes having her way. 

          “Harper!” 

          He swiftly drops his pack, turning to Felicity. “Captain?” 

          “I need you to check the bulkhead. Make sure there aren’t any holes.” 

          With a sharp nod, he scuttles over to the ropes. He puts on a harness, sliding ropes through it just the way Felicity taught him. Normally, Shado would do it, but she’s keeping an eye out for ships on the horizon.  

          They’ll need her eyes when the time comes.  

          Yao Fei, Diggle and Slade work quickly to stow the cargo, lowering the heavier things down with ropes. In almost no time at all, the deck looks as if nothing had happened. Felicity decompresses in a hurry, but her gaze remains steely on the waters ahead. It's the calm before the storm, she supposes. Diggle joins her at the helm, pulling her in under his arm. Felicity sighs, sinking into him a little bit. Her adrenaline has worn off.  

          “M’tired, John.” 

          “Of?” 

          Felicity shrugs, closing her eyes. She used to fear appearing weak in front of her crew, but she trusts them more than she used to. “Hoping. We don’t even know for sure if Oliver is still alive.” 

          “He’s alive, Felicity.” 

          She has no idea why she’s so worried, but then again.... He’s just a stupid kid. Sure, she’s younger than him, but she has sense in her head. Oliver isn’t used to this life. “How can you know that?” 

          Dig’s smile is warm. “I just do.” 

          She believes him. If he thought there wasn’t hope, he wouldn’t give it to her. He’s a realist, just like her. He has no time for illusions, and Felicity doesn’t have the patience for them.  

          “What if he escaped and now he’s running around the island like a chicken with its head cut off?” 

          The question pulls a laugh out of her usually stoic first mate. “Then that’s just Oliver being himself.” 

          Comforted somewhat, Felicity wanders down to her quarters, leaving Diggle in control. She isn’t surprised to find Roy asleep on the floor beneath her bed. It’s just a reminder of how young he is. He’s barely thirteen, even though he likes to pretend he’s older because his fourteenth birthday is “coming up” – it's only eight months, he likes to say. She can see right through him. 

          With careful hands, she pries him free from his little corner, settling him down onto her bunk and pulling her blanket over him. 

          “I used to wonder where he would go.” 

          Felicity offers Shado a tight smile. The woman is leaning against Felicity's door, her expression fond as she looks at Roy. 

          “He’s still so young, and he’s been hardened by the world.” Shado takes light steps to the bed and sits down on its edge. “Still... there is a kindness to him.”  

          “It takes him a little bit to warm up to people.” 

          She tugs the blanket a little ways up his shoulder. “He would disappear from his hammock in the dead of night, and I would wonder. Now I know.” 

          Felicity nods, sitting down in front of her desk to write in her logs. She loves record-keeping. It’s a tidy task that doesn’t take her long, and it gives her a sense of normalcy. She feels Shado come up behind her, the hug that follows more than expected. Both she and Diggle make wonderful older siblings. She loves them so much that sometimes she forgets everything she's left behind. 

          It must be hard for Shado to miss her sister. 

          “How’re you feeling?” 

          Felicity manages a shrug. “Don’t know. A little worn out, I guess.” 

          “Mmm. I know the feeling.” 

          Felicity only watches as Shado picks up her hairbrush, relaxing as the older woman takes every care with her. One thing that she’s noticed about both Shado and Yao Fei is that they like to take care of people. She would guess that everyone in their family has a little save-the-world in them. 

          “Thanks, Shado.” 

          Shado only laughs a little. “It’s the least I can do. You make it your goal to take care of us, and yet rarely does the favor get returned. I thought it might make you feel better. My sister taught me that the body isn’t much use if the mind is exhausted. That’s why my father taught me to breathe when using a bow. Being calm and steady better enables us to act.” 

          “Mmm.” Felicity takes a deep breath, letting Shado work. She just hopes Shado doesn’t realize she’s not paying a lick of attention. She's enjoying the scalp massage far too much for that.

          When Shado finishes brushing, she pulls Felicity’s hair into her usual tight French braid. They talk for the first time in a while. They try to make it a habit, but sometimes time gets away from them. After a while, Felicity can't help but come back to the subject that's been bothering her for the last few days.

          “Shado, do you think I’m being stupid?” 

          “About?” 

          “Tracking down Oliver? Doing all of this just to get him back onboard? I mean, the job is technically on the way, but we're using it as a means of passage.” 

          Shado shakes her head, sitting down in the chair as Felicity vacates it. Felicity starts on her hair, her hands slow and methodical now that she’s relaxed. It takes Shado a few moments to put her thoughts in order.  

          “As much as it pains me to admit it, we need to find him.” 

          “Because he’s in danger?” 

          “Because he needs somewhere to turn. His father is gone, and he can’t go home. Leaving him with Fyers is cruel. If he can't go anywhere else, then it's only right.” 

          Felicity grabs a pair of beads to adorn the braid she’s working on, wrapping leather around the end to keep everything in place. “So, you actually think rescuing Oliver is in our best interest? He’s dangerous to us. What happens if we’re caught with him in an open port? There’s no way we’d ever be able to stop running. As much as I want to save Oliver, I have to protect the crew, too.” 

          “I think you’d know if any of us were going to protest by now, captain.” 

          “Hmm.” 

          Shado laughs softly. “I know you like to think that we’re all hapless and helpless, but we can take care of ourselves, Felicity.” 

          “I’m the captain. It’s my job to worry, you know.” 

          A huff leaves Shado that can be interpreted as a laugh or just plain ol’ exasperation. “And I’m one of your bowmen. It’s mine and my father’s job to watch out for all of you. Fair is fair.” 

          “You’ve got me there.” 

          “It’s also why we have to go back for Oliver. Like it or not, he was one of our crew. He trusted us, even if we didn't understand why.” 

          Felicity laughs, tying off another braid. “Technically, he was a prisoner.” 

          Shado’s mouth tips up at the corners and she turns to look at Felicity. “Since when have you ever missed an opportunity to embrace technicality? As I recall, that’s how you find your way safely out of skirmishes.” 

          “It was one time, okay?” 

          “Don’t worry. We all had fun. Especially Slade.” 

          Felicity grins, noting the way she says the name with a small lilt. “Caught your eye, has he?” 

          Shado shakes her head, getting up from the chair and excusing herself. “That, captain, is not your concern.” 

          Felicity can’t resist teasing Shado as she walks to the door. “Mmhmm. Sure, it isn’t. You let me know when he starts buying you flowers so I can add a few shillings to our miscellaneous fund. I’ve always wondered what was holding him back. You certainly get along well enough.” 

          Shado closes the door behind her, laughing as she heads to her own bunk.  

          Feeling self-assured, Felicity settles down to sleep next to Roy. Her arm curls protectively around the boy. He really is still just a kid, no matter how tough he pretends to be. Still... her comfort in protecting those she loves doesn’t keep her from wondering. She’s just one of those people who can always come up with a worse worst-case scenario. 

          Banishing the image of her crew with lifeless eyes and Oliver’s body mangled and bloody, Felicity manages to slip into an uneasy doze. Her crew is the best out there, and if they can't do this, then no one can. The thought reassures her and she calms. 

          They'll get Oliver back, and Fyers will wish he had never taken him. She knows it.


	12. Infiltration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda got in the zone and threw all of this onto a page. Merry Christmas. :)

         Felicity steels herself. It’s time. 

          She glances at her crew where they’re dressed in fresh clothes. Slade’s shirt is making him itch, but it’s better than being caught smelling like a pirate. He had to shave off his beard and trim his hair for all of this too. Felicity has her hair pinned up under her hat, the makeup on her face adding enough sharpness to help her look like a man.  

          Shado’s disguise had to be a little more convincing, but Felicity had no problems helping her out. Roy, thankfully, can pass as a young deckhand in training. Yao Fei would be harder to explain, but Felicity managed to make him seem less suspicious with a good shave of his own and the shirt from an old uniform. John gets to play himself in this particular production. 

          They moor to the makeshift dock that the encampment has set up. The operation has expanded somewhat, but it doesn’t change the goal.  

          Fyers meets them at the edge of the gangplank. “You’re early.” 

          Felicity only just remembers to deepen her voice and throw in an English accent before speaking, the knowledge that there was supposed to be a ship coming in throwing her for a loop. “We caught good winds.” 

          “Of all things that move and breathe upon the earth...”  

          It’s like he thinks she’s stupid. What idiot hasn’t read _The Odyssey_? “Nothing is bred that is weaker than man.” 

          “Do you have all the supplies?” 

          Felicity is careful as she walks, hoping that her men’s clothing will hide her womanly figure. “Most. A band of pirates attacked, but we managed to scare them off before they could take anything important.”  

          “Good. Have your men bring the supplies. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you our progress, captain.” 

          “Of course.” 

          Felicity follows Fyers, counting on the idea that people won’t bother her because of her supposed status. “Have there been any issues with efficiency? I can take anyone who’s causing you more trouble than they’re worth.” 

          “As much as I’m tempted to get rid of a few hands, we unfortunately need all the help we can get. I would request men from your crew to stay, but I see you’ve only a handful with you.” 

          “It’s difficult to spare men with filthy robbers like the ones we ran into on the loose.” 

          Fyers hums, shaking his head. “What has this world come to? We live in a time where brigands like that can usurp entire operations. It was just recently that we had pirates on these very shores.” 

          “What were they doing here?” Felicity asks, nodding appreciatively as Fyers gestures to their barracks.  

          Fyers chuckles. “That’s the genius of it. Shortly before getting operations set up here, we met a man named Bill Wintergreen. That’s him over there. He found our makeshift camp.” 

          Felicity glances back at her crew, John muttering to Slade to keep his head even as they carry heavy boxes to the proper tent. “He looks like a mercenary.” 

          “He is. Once part of the Australian military, once a fence for those pirates, and now he works for us.” 

          “A fence?” 

          A chuckle leaves Fyers that makes Felicity want to strangle him. “Yes. He was the perfect mark. He gave us his reasons for being here under sword point, We figured it would be an opportunity to thin the population of pirates and to take whatever resources they had along with the payment for their job. It was simple.” 

          “Why do I get the idea that said simplicity was short-lived?” 

          Fyers grumbles. “Everything would have been fine if Wintergreen had all the information. We paid him to turn on his friends and captured a few crew members. There was... a complication.” 

          “An unknown variable.” 

          “Yes.” Fyers answers, sounding less than amused. He lets her observe their workers for a few moments before elaborating. “They had a prisoner, we believe.” 

          “You believe? You aren’t for sure?” 

          Fyers scoffs at her, but remains amiable as he opens the tent flap of his own quarters. He offers her a seat and she takes it. “It’s hard to be for sure because he was loyal. I’ve never seen anything like it. The only thing we got out of him was his name.” 

          “What did he do?” 

           Fyers settles at his desk, sipping water from a glass that looks as if it could use a wash. “Well, before we caught him, he released those pirates we captured. Sacrificed his freedom for them.” 

          “And you said you interrogated him?” 

          Rubbing his brow, Fyers shakes his head. “He freed them, but he claimed not to know anything. The cuffs around his wrists marked him as the captain’s prisoner. Wintergreen confirmed it. And yet... he protected them. To the death. I must say, for a prisoner, that’s loyalty most captain’s would kill to have aboard their ships. It’s a rare thing for someone to pledge their entire being on something as trivial as a few pirates.” 

          Felicity feels sick, but she tries not to sound eager for information. “So, he’s dead.” 

          “Not before a rather unexpected escape attempt. He might have even gotten away had he not tried to double back, though I sincerely doubt he had any idea where he was going.” Fyers huffs. “Ran him through myself.” 

          “No issues camp since?” 

          “Naturally not.” 

          Felicity nods, holding her composure by the tiniest thread. “One less problem to deal with.” 

          “Hmm. It was fortunate that we didn’t have to worry about disposing of a body.” 

          Taking a breath, Felicity rises from her seat. Suppressing a cringe, she offers her hand to Fyers to shake. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, but I’m afraid I must be going.” 

          “Oh, please. We have the room for you. You can rest your men before setting sail again. After all, you’re a week ahead of schedule as it is.” 

          It’ll be suspicious to refuse. “You have my gratitude, Commander.” 

          Felicity resigns herself to the longest few days of lying ever. She can do it, but now she has discontent swirling in her chest. What did Fyers mean about not having to dispose of Oliver’s body?  

          When she steps back onto the ship, her crew is waiting for her with eager expressions. She takes them below deck to the table where they play cards. No one sits. “Well,” she manages, trying to keep her swelling emotions covered. “Fyers offered us a tent to rest in for a few days before we leave, and...” 

          Diggle tilts his head, reading her like an open book. “And?” 

          “And he says he killed Oliver. I don’t think he’s lying.” 

          Roy’s expression sours. “We’re still staying? Why? If Oliver is dead, then there’s no point and we can just shove off.” 

          Felicity’s expression turns thunderous on him and he appears to shrink under her gaze. Her voice is almost a hiss. “Keep your voice down and at least try to be respectful. Oliver is the reason that you’ve had food for the last two weeks and now it looks like he died so we could escape, so you could at least pretend to be grateful.” 

          There was a time when Roy would have run away from her when she yelled at him. Now is not that time. Instead, she notes the tears welling in his eyes before he steps forwards to wrap his arms around her. She’s surprised at first, but she hugs him anyway, one hand coming up to his hair as he shakes in her arms. He apologizes multiple times. Too many times. She scared him. He’s so young. So, so young and she forgot. She remembers that little boy in the alley: the one who was half-starved and wore ratty clothes. His face is buried in her shoulder. His heart is pounding in his chest. This is still that same boy. 

           Quieting him, she offers a hushed apology of her own.  

          Looking up at her crew, she finds that even Slade looks spooked by her behavior. John only looks understanding, and perhaps a little sympathetic. “You’ve had a stressful few days, Felicity. Why don’t you, Roy and Shado go get set up in the tent. We’ll all be right behind you.” 

          Shaking her head, she briefs her crew on the goings-on in the camp. Everything she knows now comes out into the open. She keeps Roy close, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. He calmed down quickly and now he’s wearing his usual scowl.  

          As a group, they all get settled into the tent Fyers set aside for them and set up a watch shift. No one needs to come in and discover that the group are, in fact, the pirates from before. It’s a miracle that they’ve made it this far. Or maybe not so much a miracle, but a curse. It really figures that they would come all this way only to find Oliver gone.  

          Slade taps her shoulder and relieves her so he can take his shift, softly telling her that she should sleep. 

          Felicity lies awake.  

          John is the only one who notices when Shado wakes him for his shift. He says nothing, only standing by the door and staring out at the moon above the water. His quiet companionship is something she’s always admired about him. He doesn’t have to say a word to be reassuring.  

          It’s a shame that she knows she has to break his comforting silence. 

          “What are we going to do, John?” 

          He turns towards her just a little, his only sign that he’s listening. 

          “Did we really come all this way for nothing?” 

          Diggle sighs, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. I’ve just... I’ve got this feeling that something else is going on here. Something we need to put a stop to. I don’t like what I’m seeing here.” 

          She wouldn’t be surprised if he was referring to the slave labor. She’s certain that if John hadn’t been clearly dressed as one of her crew, Fyers would have offered to take him off her hands. 

          “Are we thinking sabotage?” 

          “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. Since Fyers was kind enough to invite us into his camp, we have a few days to plan and scope the place out.” 

          “Taking down an encampment this size by ourselves is a suicide mission.” 

          Slade rolls over, grumbling a little. “No, it’s not. Not if we can take out the men in the guard tower. Their shifts move every ten minutes. On the day we’re supposed to leave, we set sail for the cove that you lot hid in last time. Take the boats back to shore and infiltrate from the far side of the base where there are few guards.” 

          Felicity and Diggle are quiet. 

          “What? Someone had to be watching their movements.” 

          “What’s your plan to get inside?” 

          Slade hums. “Shado and Yao Fei can take the tower guards while Roy and I dispatch the ones on the ground. You and John sneak into their munitions. I’m sure you two get the idea after that.” 

          Dig hums, leaning against the tent post. “It’s reasonable, and if we time it just right, it should be fairly efficient.” 

          Slade huffs. “Of course, it is. Despite what you might believe, I can use strategy. Still... there is one thing that I want.” 

          Felicity muses over the plan for a few minutes, ignoring Slade’s statement until she settles her internal dispute. It’s risky, and there’s a chance that it’ll get them all killed, but this is personal. For all of them. “What is it that you want, Slade?” 

          “I kill Wintergreen myself.” 

          She knew that he had his reasons. Felicity isn’t stupid or naïve enough to believe he’d wage a war over Oliver. “Done.” 

          “How long will our supplies on the ship hold out?” Dig asks. 

          “A couple months. We stocked up pretty well on non-perishables in Starling and that cargo ship gave us a little leeway.” 

          Slade sits up, peering at John with an almost pleased expression. “Are you thinking what I think you are?” 

          “If we wait a while, it’ll be a lot less suspicious. They won’t realize what we’ve done if they have a chance to go back to their routine. We were unscheduled, and their resupply should be here in a week if the information Fyers gave you is correct. It’ll look as if there was an error rather than a group of pirates trying to sneak inside.” 

          “And if a ship doesn’t show up?” 

          Felicity laughs at Slade. “We were the ship that’s supposed to come. They won’t suspect a thing.” 

          His chuckle in response is dark. “Genius, kid. I knew I liked you for a reason.” 

          “Why, thank you, Slade. I never knew you cared.” 

          “Stuff a sock in it, Smoak.” 

          Diggle hushes them as a patrol passes, but after that they sit in companionable silence again. For the first time since Felicity found out about what happened to Oliver, she feels better about their being in Fyers’ camp. 

          She and John take her shift together, quietly discussing everything they can to keep Felicity from dwelling on the things she can’t change. She can’t help it. As much of a pirate as she is, she doesn’t pillage and plunder for fun. She steals to survive and to keep her crew safe. Sure, the vindictive kick she gets out of seeing rich men flounder after being robbed does help some, but there’s always the end goal. The end, in her case, always justified the means. Until Oliver. 

          Just like Slade, she’s here now with a vendetta. She’ll take Fyers down with her if she has to. 

          That’s why, come morning, she takes Shado and Roy out “hunting” with Fyers’ permission. They take note of landmarks and carefully rearrange logs and branches for safe places to shoot from. It can’t be too obvious, but they can make it so their cover can be set up at a moment’s notice. For the sake of their secret, Shado kills a few squirrels and rabbits to take back to camp.  

          Felicity keeps an eye out, marking a tree with her knife as she finds one that would make a decent perch for the archers. She knows it’s out of their way based on Slade’s plan, but it’s always good to have a backup. 

          They don’t get very far. The island is a lot bigger than it seems. Then again, sailing around it in the Azalea is hardly a comparison.  

          Upon their return, Felicity spots Fyers speaking with Diggle. Despite his treatment of John earlier this morning, Fyers’ expression now seems respectful. Maybe even impressed.  

          Felicity smiles warmly. That’s her first mate. 

          She corrects her stature and tips her head when she approaches. “Fyers.” 

          “Ah. There you are. I was beginning to wonder if the perils of this island had claimed you.” 

          Shado lifts her rabbits and Roy the squirrels. Felicity huffs. “Not a chance.” 

          Fyers hums. “I admit, I’m impressed by your crew, captain. You’re the first truly competent hunters I’ve seen, and there are men here who have been sent specifically for it. If we weren’t so early in our work here and you were able to stay, I might’ve asked you to stay.” 

          “We appreciate the port to rest in, but we unfortunately can’t stay.” John answers, his tone appeasing.  

          “Hmm. A shame, really. A whole encampment, and we’ve only labor to show for it. No matter. Our operation to take down China’s cruiser has been in the works far too long now to give it up, and it’ll all be over soon.” 

          “We have every confidence in you, Commander.” 

          Ego stoked, Fyers straightens a little. “You have my gratitude. Your swift arrival has definitely been a gift, as has your first mate’s insight on our operation.” 

          “I’m glad we could be of assistance. I didn’t know what you would think, considering.” 

          “Nonsense. Any man of skill is not to be overlooked, and I can guarantee that none of my hands will trifle with him. Mr. Henry deserves every respect and more for becoming such a fine soldier, despite his people’s usual standing.” 

          “I was fortunate to come across him what with the high demand for skilled work and so few to fulfill it.” Felicity answers, the words feeling greasy to say. It’s such a slight towards John that she knows she’ll apologize later. 

          “Well, I would gladly have Jacob over many of my own men.” 

          Jacob Henry. As good a cover name as any.  

          Fyers dismisses them and they make a retreat to their tent. The crew is inside, cleaning weapons and fixing disguises. Felicity nods to herself, leaving them to it and using her free rein of the camp to survey their operations. Slade, oddly enough, shadows her. She only realizes why when she sees Billy hanging around the cannons. Any ship hoping to pass by Lian Yu in secret is going to get a nasty surprise. 

          She knows Slade well enough by now to realize he’s figuring out Billy’s movements. Felicity can’t help that she’s doing the same for Fyers. He keeps a close eye on everything, but it’s all very systematic. He makes a consistent loop compared to Billy’s hectic roving. Billy seems to go wherever whenever he pleases. 

          As the hours drone on and Felicity watches the action around her with growing unease, Slade still studies people with his infinite patience. No one will risk staring at him because of his status as a welcomed guest of Fyers, but there are those whose eyes flick to him with nervous energy. 

          Good. At least someone gets to be as uncomfortable as she is.  

          Almost as if drawing energy from Slade, her resolve is bolstered and she becomes her lie over the next few days. All of this is a means to an end. No ship comes to loudly proclaim that they’ve been lying, and Felicity could almost crow with joy.  

          Fyers almost seems as if he’s put out by the fact that they’ll be leaving in a day’s time. 

          Felicity feels no such heartbreak. 

          Her crew clearly feels the same, as Roy has fearlessly stated numerous times that he’s happy to be leaving soon. Felicity, on the other hand, is going to make the most of their last day of staying in the camp. Sort of. 

          She approaches Fyers come morning. “Commander.” 

          “Captain. Do you have a request? Your crew has kept to themselves these last days.” 

          “They aren’t very sociable, but I do have a request. I’d like you to allow the crew and myself to go on a hunting expedition. We’re trying to explore the island a little before we have to shove off. Being holed up in a boat for days on end makes my archers itch. They seem to like steady and unmoving land for some reason.” 

          “I understand completely. If you try to the east just past our prisoner tent, I hear there’s a group of boar wandering around. We’ll have food for weeks at this rate, so as far as I’m concerned, you may roam as you like.” 

          Once they’re out of hearing range, Slade scoffs. “Arrogant bastard.” 

          Felicity leads them out towards the east. They may as well see what’s out there. Slade and Roy move things around and John watches Felicity as she slides down the slope they came over in their escape the last time. Shado and Yao Fei follow her, bows in hand and hoods up. Felicity gives herself a shake.  

          She remembers exactly what Oliver said before they fled. Knowing what she knows, she still can’t understand why.  

          Felicity glances over her shoulder, checking to make sure they’re out of eyeshot. She gestures for her crew to come with her and they veer from the beaten path. They wander the island, only pausing when they approach a waterfall.  

          Shado lets out a breath. “It’s beautiful.” 

          Roy crouches down on the edge, touching his fingers to the stone. “That’s a long drop. Anyone feel like going for a swim?” 

          Snorting, Felicity fiddles with the stock of her gun. “Dream on, kiddo.” 

          Diggle only hums, his eyes peering out across the gap. Felicity keeps and eye on him even as Slade takes his boots off and puts his feet into the spray. John paces back a little bit, his steps calculating. 

          “Dig?” 

          He steps across on a few stones, facing them on the opposite side of the gulch. “There’s blood over here. A lot of it.” 

          Roy gets up, going across the same way Diggle did. “Fresh?” 

          “No, but it’s not old either.” 

          John takes a step away, watching where he puts his feet. “Roy, stand in front of the blood stain.” 

          “Why do I get to be the victim?” 

          Felicity and the others join John and she finally figures out what he’s doing. He pulls his sword out, telling Roy to just shut up and do what he says. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Roy stands over the blood stain. 

          “Are you happy now?” 

          “Very. Now, don’t move an inch. I don’t want to hurt you by mistake.” 

          Felicity watches him play out the scene in front of her, horror dawning as she realizes what Fyers meant about not having to deal with Oliver’s body. “Fyers pushed him over the edge.” 

          Shado looks disgusted. 

          Roy glances behind him, his brow furrowing. “Should we...?” 

          Yao Fei doesn’t answer, only starting to climb down with Shado close behind. The crew, feeling obligated to find out what happened, follow them. Felicity tries hard to stifle the flutter of hope in her bones but fails drastically. 

          They don’t find a body along the banks of the waterfall. Did he get swept out to sea? 

          John hums. “More blood here on the shore. It looks like someone dragged themselves out of the water.” 

          “To here.” Yao answers, standing near a bunch of boulders. “Blood not good. They rested, but... not stay to die.” 

          Shado touches a plant nearby. “Broken stalks. Big leaves.” 

          Felicity’s breath puffs out into the chilly air. It's getting warmer out, but the misting water and shade keep it cold. “They patched themselves up? What would they use to hold the leaves in place? And even if they could staunch the blood flow, how would they avoid infection?” 

          Yao Fei seems to agree, humming to himself as he hunts around.  

          “Ba!” 

          He turns, moving to Shado as she holds out a handful of something that looks like dirt. “Clever man” is all he says. 

          Felicity frowns, coming closer to see what she has. What she finds startles a laugh out of her, an almost giddy feeling floating around her chest. He could be alive if he hasn’t starved to death. “Those are your healing herbs, aren’t they?” 

          “Hmm.” 

          Slade chuckles. “Looks like the kid’s smarter than we give him credit for.” 

          “He can’t have gone far. That much blood loss would slow anyone down, especially someone who’s been at the mercy of Fyers for an extended period of time. He’d be looking for shelter of some sort.” 

          Yao Fei leads the way. He uses what he can to track him, losing the trail a few times, but picking it up again because of places where Oliver must have rested. Felicity tries hard to be positive without thinking about all the blood, but forcing optimism has never worked for her. 

          Yao Fei turns, squinting a little as he loses the trail again. “Mmm.” 

          John chuckles, pointing out the cave in the trees ahead. Sometimes Yao Fei focuses a little too much on the small details. “How about we try there? If Oliver made it this far, I think finding a safe place to sleep might have been his top priority.” 

          As a group, they make their way towards the cave. Felicity and John enter first, swords drawn and stances defensive. It takes a few seconds for their eyes to adjust.  

          Felicity’s eyes widen as she spots a slumped form in the back. One word leaves her in a breathless whisper. 

          “ _Oliver.”_  


	13. Aces up our Sleeves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little shortie. I'll be back soon with another update. I will also be skipping over a little time come next chapter to avoid boring training yada yada. Enjoy!

          The crew stands there in complete silence. Felicity doubts any of them really expected to find Oliver alive. Well... alive is yet to be determined. Because of that, she steps forward, crouching down next to Oliver and tipping his head back.  

          He groans, blue eyes flicking open with confusion. He blinks, as if having trouble focusing on her. “Captain?” 

          Slade chuckles, sheathing his swords. “Well, I’ll be damned.” 

          Oliver places a hand on his side, shifting around in an attempt to get up. Felicity keeps him down, waving to Shado and Yao Fei to come check him over. While they do that, Felicity looks around. It looks like Oliver made a poor attempt at a fire. One of the walls has a piece of wood leaned up against it, the surface marred by what looks like arrow indentions. With a start, she notices a bow and a set of arrows hidden just behind it.  

          He’s been practicing. She doubts he managed to get good enough at it to hunt, but it’s a vague improvement.  

          Shado’s voice is clear in the small space. “When was the last time you ate?” 

          Oliver is silent in response, either unknowing or being stubborn.  

          “Oliver.” Shado sighs. “We need to know how much food to find.” 

          Felicity turns, finding Oliver’s eyes on her. “I told you to go. Why did you come back?” 

          It’s John who comes to her rescue. “We weren’t going to leave you behind, Oliver. It just took us awhile to get back here. Needed a way in, so we found one, and now it’s going to pay off. We're going to bring this place down on Fyers’ head.” 

          Oliver shakes his head. “No. Why are you here? You’d be safer if you left me.” 

          Felicity grumbles a little. “You’re so stupid.” 

          “Excuse me?” 

          “You risked your neck for a bunch of pirates, Queen. Not only that, but you made sure we got the payment from Billy’s job. It’s not every day that a reckless rich man’s son gives up his freedom.” 

          Oliver is quiet for a long time, wincing when Shado pokes at one of his wounds. “Who’s Billy?” 

          Slade sneers. “A traitor. He gave us up. You might’ve met him in the camp. He wears a mask that’s the opposite of mine.” 

          Feeling sick to his stomach, Oliver pushes Shado back so he can throw up. Just thinking about it brings a cold chill back to his skin. His palor becomes almost ashen and he gasps feebly. Yao Fei pauses for the first time, his wounds more prominent on his skin now that he’s shifting into the light.  

          “You okay, kid?” 

          He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he gestures to himself. The action is jerky and a little panicked, so Shado tries to steady him. “He’s... he’s the one that did all... all this. Wouldn’t stop, j-just kept –” 

          Felicity glances at Roy. He’s still standing in the cave entrance, staring at Oliver with wide eyes. He’s seen people die before, but she’s tried to keep him a stranger to cruelty. Preserving his innocence was futile even before she met him. Hell, she stabbed a guy and he bled out only moments before sje tried to rob him. In her defense, he got handsy.

          No. Innocence was pointless, but she _tried_. No kid should have to see what people can do to each other the way Oliver has.

          “Roy.” 

          He startles, meeting her gaze. She opens one arm to him, keeping the boy close. He turns his face in towards her shoulder when Shado pulls a leaf free. It drags skin with it, tearing a scab loose. Oliver merely grimaces as his ripped-up shirt comes free. 

          “Are you okay?” 

          Oliver nods, lying straight to her face. “Barely felt it.” 

          Slade doesn’t seem to appreciate the lie, but he says nothing. He’s still glaring at Oliver’s wounds as if they personally offended him. It’s too late to stitch them up. He’ll have scars, but at least he’s alive.  

          Felicity still has no idea why that matters so much to her. For some stupid reason, she trusts him. 

          Oliver is having the same thoughts from where he’s watching her across the room. He doesn’t really understand her. When they first met, she was cold and, no matter how much he might deny it, frightening. She’s a pirate, and he was taught that the word alone meant he couldn’t trust her. Robert made sure that his son knew where his allies – money and family ties – would get him.  

          He knows he’s about to throw all of it out the window. 

          Oliver’s eyes flick to John where he’s standing with his arms crossed, one hand lifted to his chin in contemplation. “What’s wrong?” 

          “I’m trying to figure out how we’re going to get you back to the ship. You won’t be in running or swimming condition for a week, at least. I’m thinking we can wait. Supply you from the cove while we’re waiting for the moment of truth.” 

          “Why bring down the base?” Oliver asks, his voice turning rough at the end as he coughs.  

          Slade stands up, hands twitching at his sides. “Lots of reasons, kid. Killing Fyers. Killing Billy. Stopping the slave drivers. Keeping the people in this base from blowing up a cruiser.” 

          “So, it’s mostly revenge.” 

          “Justice, Oliver. When you live like us, justice doesn’t come without a death toll. That’s just all there is to it.” 

          “But laws-” 

          Felicity shakes her head. “Laws can’t change who we are. We survive, and anything less threatens this crew. Laws didn’t protect you here. They won’t protect you out in the sea, either. They can’t, no matter what the royals or governors might say.” She sighs, giving Roy’s shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t expect someone like you to understand, but you need to realize that.” 

          Oliver considers her words, grimacing again as Shado continues to prod. Felicity waits patiently.  

          “I think we understand each other, captain.” 

          Felicity appreciates how perceptive Oliver is. Though they don’t have the luxury of foresight, she can rest assured that Oliver will be able to hold his own in a tight spot. He’s survived this long, even if she has no idea how. 

          It doesn’t matter. She learned a long time ago not to underestimate people. Cooper taught her that when they met. 

          “Captain.” 

          “Yes?” 

          He hesitates, but it must be important or he wouldn’t say it. “I didn’t tell them anything. I swear.” 

          For the first time since they met, she offers him a warm smile. “I know, Oliver.” 

          Oliver relaxes, sinking against the wall and letting his shoulders droop. She hadn’t realized how tense he was until just now. With his hands loose at his sides and his head tilted back against the hard stone, it occurs to her just how lost he looks. 

          Shado eventually coaxes him back to sleep, the crew settling down on the ground near him. They don’t say a word, each wondering about where they’ll go from here. There’s no question that Oliver needs to stay hidden, but the question is for how long. In a month’s time, he’ll be ready to go for the plan. Having him involved could be either a huge asset or a disaster waiting to happen.  

          The crew agreed a long time ago that Oliver was basically a catastrophe with legs. 

          The only one stuck in his musings is Slade. When they first technically met, Slade watched Oliver yell at him with a sort of twisted amusement. Such a stupid kid ready to take on the world for a _girl_. Oliver feared him.  

          Not anymore. He could see it in Oliver’s eyes.  

          He never thought it would happen, and maybe it’s too late, but he’s become... endeared to the kid. Kind of like he has to Roy. That little pickpocket managed to steal his sword right out of its sheath once. Felicity taught him well. 

          Even with the way he’d treated Oliver, he risked all he had so they could escape.  

          Maybe the spoiled rich brat isn’t so bad. Anyone who can suffer through a couple weeks of torture and patch themselves up after falling off a waterfall deserves at least some credit. In time, he wouldn’t be surprised if Oliver became a competent deckhand. Slade huffs to himself, watching the kid as he lies on the ground. Despite his injuries, his breathing is smooth. He supposes Oliver has had quite a bit of practice at breathing through pain. 

          He’ll admit it. He’s impressed. 

          Felicity breaks his quiet thoughts to ask Shado to hunt. She gladly obliges, glad to leave the evidence of Billy’s betrayal behind. She loves to believe in people, but doing what he did to Oliver says something about the monsters lurking inside each of them.  

          Even after catching food, she keeps coming back to it. They trusted him, and he betrayed them. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much if he hadn’t been so close to Slade, but even her father, who didn't know Billy well, seems angry. She knows that if people truly want to hide in plain sight, they can. She knows better than to blame herself for things she can’t change. The knowledge doesn't keep her from being all tied up over the event while she hunts.

          Upon her return, she finds John helping Oliver drink some water. Sure, he was gangly before, but now he’s thin and frail. Despite all of it, he found the strength to get himself somewhere safe.  

          She scoffs to herself. It’s not like she’s _fond_ of him or something.  

          Looking around, she thinks that everyone else might be having the same dilemma as she is even if they won’t admit it. Oliver did something brave, and stupid, and reckless, but he did it for them.  

          Actually... she takes it back. Only most of them have that dilemma. John has clearly gone into big brother mode and it’s too late for him. 

          John rests a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, turning in his crouched position to look at Felicity. “What do we do now, captain?” 

          “We have to go back to the encampment. We’ve been gone too long already.” 

          Oliver takes a breath to steady himself, shifting to sit up straighter again. “So, it’s a waiting game?” 

          Felicity nods, gathering her crew. “We’ll have to leave you here for the time being, but considering you’ve lasted up to this point, I doubt we’ll have to worry about you dying between now and this evening. At least... that’s the hope.” 

          Oliver manages a laugh. “I promise to try not to die between now and then.” 

          Regretfully, they leave him in the cave by himself. It’s a long trek back to camp, and they spend the majority of it in silence. They’re all happy to be leaving as soon as Fyers makes sure they’re ready.  

          Felicity shakes his hand one last time, still feeling like she’s shaking the hand of a snake. “A pleasure, commander.” 

          He salutes her, the act almost comical. If only he knew he was saluting a woman.... “The pleasure was all mine. I can only hope that the captain of our next supply ship is such a blessing on our operation.” 

          She can’t wait to hurl all of this in his face in roughly a month’s time. 

          The cove is only a short distance for the Azalea, Roy and John working together to pull up the sails and Felicity controlling their trajectory from the helm. Having Yao Fei drop anchor, Felicity can’t help but dance around in a giddy circle when she realizes what they’ve just gotten away with.  

          “That was fantastic!” 

         Slade huffs. “It was a bloody miracle is what it was.” He rubs his face, a little sorrowful still over the loss of his beard. “We’re never that lucky. Don’t suppose Fyers was playing us?” 

          Felicity shrugs. “Did you think you were being played?” 

          Slade sighs, trusting her instincts over his own skepticism. “No.” 

          “Good. Even better, Fyers sucks at killing people, so we’ve got an ace in the hole should we need to pull any tricks. It’s always good to have hands that we can trust when pillaging for the carnage of it all.” 

          Roy and Slade grin at each other. Both are fans of mayhem done properly, and Felicity rarely lets them do anything reckless.  

          Shado watches them from the aft, leaning on the railing with a smile on her face. She beckons Felicity to come stand with her, simply enjoying everyone’s light-hearted mood from above. They don’t often have things to celebrate, but a successful infiltration and a little bit of luck with Oliver have them in bright spirits. 

          They might have a shot at this. If they can get Oliver up to speed and turn him into at least half a fighter, their odds will be better yet. It’s been a long time since she’s had a hidden agent up her sleeve, and she intends to use everything she can to her advantage.  

          It’ll be a cold day when everything Fyers has worked for comes crashing down on his head. Felicity will make sure of it. 


	14. Grievances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I'm back! Seems like every time I try to sit down and write, I have to go somewhere. I've actually been out of state for the past week, so I haven't even had the chance to finish the most recent chapter until this morning. Hope you enjoy!

          A month of work and Oliver is still the worst sword fighter any of the crew has ever seen. For someone who can fall off a cliff and survive, he is stupidly uncoordinated. He’s more likely to hurt himself that whoever he’s fighting. 

          “Keep your weight centered, Oliver.” 

          “Keep your arms up, Oliver.” 

          “Letting them punch you in the face isn’t a fighting style, Oliver.” 

          “Breathe. You breathe, you survive.” 

          “Watch your footing.” 

          Oliver is exhausted. Yes, he is still beyond happy and even a little confused that the crew came back for him, but all the _work_ they’ve put him through? As thrilled as he is, he could wish for a vacation right about now.  

          On the upside, Felicity says he’s improving slowly but surely. He’s actually picked up more Mandarin in the last month that fighting skill. It’s more interesting than staying alive, apparently. It gives him a break from the constant aching of his muscles and Captain Smoak’s drill sergeant tendencies. Healing is tedious work, and Yao Fei most definitely put limits on what the deckhands could make him do. He’s gained a little weight again, muscle starting to emerge in places Oliver wasn’t aware of. 

          Still, he can’t help but notice how tense Diggle and Felicity are getting. Their mission is close at hand, even if they are waiting for Oliver to be able to participate. To Shado’s disappointment, Oliver is still pretty hapless with a bow in his hand. She would say that close combat isn’t his friend, but it appears no form of combat is. That being said, she can’t fault him for his soft upbringing stabbing him in the back when he’s trying to learn it for their sake.  

          Felicity, on the other hand, keeps an eye on him for other reasons. 

          “You’re not planning to kill the kid in the sleep, are you?” 

          Felicity actually laughs as Slade comes up behind her. “No. I think that would be a bit unbecoming of me. We did come all this way to rescue him. Kind of defeats the point.” 

          “That it does. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re watching him like a hawk.” 

          Huffing, Felicity shakes her head. “I just can’t ditch the feeling that he’s up to something.” 

          Slade can’t help but snicker at her. “The minute Oliver is plotting against us will be the minute that he’s lost his mind. If he was going to betray us, he’d have done it when Fyers was torturing him.” 

          “I didn’t say betray. Just that he’s up to something.” 

          Slade leans against the boulder she’s sitting on, his expression turning towards amused as he watches Shado try to teach Oliver how to use a pair of swords. Felicity would let Slade do it, but he can be a little rough. The way things are going, she’s sorely tempted to let him try. 

          “Think he’s going to try to escape?” 

          Felicity laughs a little as John corrects Oliver’s form, showing him how to angle himself to do the most damage. It’s not like he hasn’t been taught before, but he stubbornly refuses to retain information. 

          “He won’t. At least not until we make land in a bigger port.” 

          A hum rumbles out of Slade that turns into a quiet chuckle when Oliver lands a hit on Shado and apologizes. She makes him pay for the moment of sympathy. “Until then, I’m sure we’ll have our share of entertainment.” 

          “Hmm. Are Roy and Yao Fei back yet?” 

          “They’re still out there somewhere. As long as it’s been, they’d better be coming back with either a boar, or a whole warren of rabbits.” 

          Felicity smirks, running her hand over her tight French braid. She knows that Roy is careful, and there’s no way he’d go quietly if something happened. “I’m thinking of letting Roy match up with Oliver when they get back.” 

          “You’ll have to take his swords. Roy gets a bit... what shall we say? Overzealous?” 

          “Something like that.” 

          Slade huffs. “Or you could go back to training him. Look at the kid.” 

          “What about him?” 

          The seasoned swordsman grumbles a bit. “He’s struggling, and putting him with a younger inexperienced opponent won’t teach him anything. He’s already afraid to hurt us. Just what he needs is to be afraid of hurting a boy whose voice hasn’t even broken yet.” 

          “I could always make you train with him. Sure, he may not be scared of hurting you, but he’d want to give up because he’s never beat you.” 

          “He has to learn until he can. That’s the point.” 

          Felicity eyes him for a moment. “You _want_ to train with him, don’t you? Feels like you owe him?” 

          Slade grumbles under his breath, hating how well she can read him. He never intended to get close when she brought him on, but he owed her then. He didn’t have a choice then. Not that he’d leave if he had the choice now, but that’s beside the point. 

          “As dumb as he is, even he could never have deserved all that,” he rumbles, gesturing to Oliver’s healing scars. “I could never be paid enough to do that to another person. I’ve got blood on my hands, but Billy? The kid... he’s an untrained civilian.” 

          Felicity smiles a little. “Regretting killing Sarah?” 

          Slade blinks, knowing that she’s analyzing him and that it’s pointless to deny it. “I suppose so. Would’ve saved us some trouble.” 

          “What about Robert?” 

          He isn’t so blind that he can’t read between the lines. She’s reminding him that he consistently disobeys her when he’s acting on impulse. He growls at her. “You don’t have to remind me, Smoak.” 

          “Mmm. Don’t I? I’ve told you repeatedly to leave the civilians out of our work, and you’ve ignored me.” Slade winces. “I’m telling you now that this is your last warning. You know I keep my promises, and I will cut your eye out with a dull blade if you disobey me again. I know you’ve been working almost non-stop to make up for it, but there will be no more civilian casualties unless you’d like to pay the price with your life.” 

          Slade is quiet for a long time before deciding to focus on the latter side of her statement. “Are you accusing me of sucking up, captain?” 

          Felicity shakes her head. “I’m only accusing you of feeling vaguely guilty. Nothing else. As far as I’m concerned, your behavior since the Queen’s Gambit has cleaned up nicely. Best guess on that?” Felicity chuckles mostly to herself, snagging Slade’s flask when he offers it and taking a long swig. “You’re going soft.” 

          Slade scowls. “Shut your trap, captain.” 

          “Excuse me?” 

          “I said, ‘Of course, captain’.” 

          “I thought so.” 

          Slade takes his flask back, leaning against the huge boulder with a small smile.  

          Felicity lets him be silent as he basks in her forgiveness. She doesn’t want him to thank her. She just wants him to simply do better. It’s not every day that the crew picks up an unstable man. And he had been _unstable_  to say in the least, and it’s pretty clear sometimes that that’s still the case. 

           Still, she can’t keep herself from wondering who he wants to do this for. It’s either her, Oliver or himself. 

          “Have it your way, Slade.” 

          “Hm?” 

          Felicity hops down from the rock. “You can train Oliver if you want, but keep in mind that he’s still terrible.” 

          Slade chuckles, drinking a little more. “We all start out terrible.” 

          Felicity shrugs, donning her hat and motioning for Slade to follow her. Oliver accepts the change with only a small protest. He knows better than to complain once Felicity makes a decision by now. It wouldn’t be the first time Slade has tried to cram some training down his throat.  

          That being said, this past month has proved that Oliver refuses to be cowed by him. Any barbed insult Slade issues is met with sharp words or a clever response in Mandarin.  

          It’s a good change to see in someone who had never killed a man before he met them. Oliver is ready to become something more, whether he wants to admit it or not.  

          “Roy! It certainly took you long enough.” 

          Slade stands down, looking around for the boy. He spots him helping Yao Fei drag a good-sized boar towards the cave. “Now, that’s what I call a meal. It’s no wonder you took forever. That thing must outweigh you both.” 

          Oliver manages a breathy laugh, but clearly finds no humor in it. The action, or lack thereof, catches Felicity’s attention. He doesn’t think they notice, but his mood has become dangerously dark. He hasn’t gotten particularly self-destructive, but the nightmares don’t help him to keep his head. Naturally, his dark thoughts lead her to her dark secrets and she decides he has to know what they know. 

          Felicity can’t help herself. It’s time to tell him the truth.  

          She waits until dusk so that they won’t be caught on the open water, taking Oliver and John with her. John rows the small boat towards the cove. Felicity, on the other hand, takes the time to herself to organize her thoughts.  

          Felicity stays in the boat when Diggle gets out to drop the ropes, the mechanisms reeling them up with hardly any effort on John’s end.  

          Oliver is quiet when he steps back onto the Azalea, simply looking around and seeming beside himself. She invites both the men into her quarters, sitting down in her desk and lighting the candles surrounding her maps and star charts. John hovers over her left shoulder, watching Oliver with the eyes of a hawk as he stands in front of the desk. To his credit, he doesn’t fold under the look. 

          “I have a few things to tell you, Oliver.” 

          Oliver makes a noise, wringing his hands in a way that’s almost subtle. “I... kinda figured you were just going to kill me.” 

          John’s laugh is a comforting rumble. “I don’t think you have to worry about that. We wouldn’t spend this long training you just to waste it now. You’re turning into a half-decent fighter.” 

          Felicity raises a hand, stopping him even though his ribbing is gentle. “There are things you need to know. Things that are happening that we didn’t understand before we landed back in Starling.” 

          Oliver’s brow furrows. “Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like this?” 

          “You won’t.” Felicity says, Oliver wincing at her bluntness. 

          “Oh... okay?” 

          Felicity pulls out a piece of paper from her desk drawer, spreading it out for Oliver to look at. “We stole this from the records room in the naval headquarters. It’s only the back half of the page, but Yao Fei brought out the iron in the ink so we could show it to you. We couldn’t risk taking the whole thing without the theft being noticed, but you deserved to know.” 

          Oliver reads the words, his jaw clenching as he gets further along. “I.... I don’t understand.” 

          “Someone of high standing or someone with a position of power put out the order, and they’re from Starling City. Someone who had money and influence. That doesn’t give us a good idea of who, but we know where and when.” 

          At Oliver’s confused expression, John jumps in. “There are a lot of people who could pull this off, but the point is that we’ve got a starting point, Oliver.” 

          He’s quiet for a long time. “Why are you telling me this?” 

          Felicity pulls the small leather-bound book from her hidden pocket. “Because we think it’s possible that the order on the Queen’s Gambit has something to do with the names in this book. Robert's book.” 

          Oliver lightly touches the cover, picking It up with an obvious sense of trepidation. His fingers slide over the pages which are now filled with names. “It... It was empty before.” 

          “Invisible ink. It looks like your father had something to hide.” 

          His jaw clenches again, this time looking away from them as he murmurs something under his breath. Diggle tilts his head in lieu of a verbal question, curious, but knowing that Oliver won't share if he doesn't want to.  

          “Wrongs. That’s what he said. ‘Right my wrongs.’” 

          Felicity’s brow furrows. “Who?” 

          “My father. He said it right after Slade.... He said it right before he died.” Oliver runs a hand over his face, starting to pace a little. It’s clear he doesn’t know what to do with the information. “I thought my father was a good man.” 

          Oliver rubs at the cuffs on his wrists, not seeming to mind them, but instead using the action as a coping mechanism. He walks out of the cabin, running a hand over his hair. The damp locks are clumped from his time training, and it’s getting longer than his mother would ever allow. With a heavy sigh, Oliver leans on the rail of the ship. He hangs his head low as he considers what all of it means. He wonders if the names on the list really are connected to the Queen’s Gambit, or if the hit was put out by someone close to them. Had they been betrayed? What had his father done in order to be murdered?  

          He doesn’t know what to think. 

          “You okay, man?” 

          With a quiet sound and a shift of his feet, Oliver lifts his head to peer out of the cove, perhaps to where Starling City waits in the distance. “I don’t know anymore.” 


	15. Lion's Den

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this probably waaaayyy too quickly, but as far as I'm concerned, you're all ready for it. Enojy!

          Almost two months - six weeks and three days exactly. That’s how long they’ve been trying to teach Oliver to fight. Supplies on the Azalea are starting to fall on the low side, but they can’t risk raiding the encampment if Oliver isn’t prepared to fight. There has been a lot of debate among the crew on whether or not to go ahead with the plan. John, Shado, and Roy said no. Yao Fei and Felicity were neutral, and Slade was the only one who said yes. Felicity just thinks that Slade wants a crack at Billy as soon as possible. She can’t blame him, but they need to be patient.  

          Still... patience with Oliver could mean six months of waiting.  

          Oliver himself also presents an issue. He’s gotten even more brooding since their conversation on the Azalea, and it’s distracting him. He’s not sleeping much, and he always says that he’s not very hungry. John is the one who convinces him to at least put something in his stomach. He’s developed quite the rapport with Oliver that’s moving swiftly into big brother territory. 

          Felicity is willing to put up with the struggle to train him and the mood swings if she can have a trick up her sleeve that Fyers would never expect. After all that’s happened, she needs to know that her crew will have an out if they need it. Oliver could be a distraction, or a bowman if he could ever figure out what he’s doing wrong. With enough training, there’s also a possibility that he could manage a close-quarters fight.  

          Whatever the case may be, as long as he can pull it together when they need him, she’ll give him all the time he requires. 

          His skills are improving, if not a little bit slowly, but she has to give him credit. It appears that training with Slade has done him good, and despite the fact that Slade murdered his father, they actually seem to be turning into friends. Though, tying Oliver to a chair only for him to dislocate his shoulder to escape does tend to forge bonds. He has more guts and determination than he has any right to have. 

          It would seem like he was made for this life if he wasn’t so frighteningly clumsy and lacking in the strategy department.  

          His Mandarin is improving thanks to Shado, and she’s also in the process of teaching him how to fight in close combat using the bow as a weapon. Surprisingly enough, he’s better at that than anything else. 

          Felicity would be lying if she said she didn’t notice the way that his muscle tone was improving as well. She actually thinks Diggle taking him out to the ship with the crew to maintain it is helping tremendously. Roy too, actually, since he’s finally having a growth spurt again. She’d been worried that he would never get over five foot five. 

          Maybe he’ll finish growing before Oliver manages to be a decent fighter. He’s already proven that he’s got what it takes, but he just doesn’t want to change. 

          Felicity can’t help but grumble sometimes even though she knows how much Oliver hates to disappoint her. 

           

          Three months, it turns out, is what it takes for Oliver to be at least resolute. Slade keeps saying that the true results are yet to be seen. Felicity, on the other hand, has faith. If he can figure out how to dress a stab wound on his own, then he can learn to fight.  

          Felicity calls for her crew and they all slink into the cave one after another. Oliver is the last, his steps hesitant as if he knows what’s coming. She isn’t surprised. He has a good nose for danger. Shado was actually very eager to let him be a look-out because of it. The few times he’s spotted patrols coming before they have have been good confidence boosters. 

          “We’re going to take down the base.” 

          Slade smirks. “Finally.” 

          Felicity moves to the wall where they have a map of the base drawn out. “It’s going to take all of us to do what we have planned. Shado and Yao Fei are going to take out the guards in the watchtowers and then use flaming arrows to start a distraction near the opposite side of the camp. The tents on fire here and here will draw the attention of some soldiers and let us know that the way is clear.” 

          “Where do you want me, captain?” Slade asks, his voice turning a little ominous as he thinks about the coming fight. He's been waiting for this fight for a long time.

          “I want you to move along the shoreline towards the barracks. It’s likely that the commotion will be reported to those in command and that the soldiers will be rallying within three minutes. Billy should be among them.” 

          Slade nods, seeming pleased enough.  

           She points at John and Roy, her expression serious. “I need you two to parallel Slade along the left flank. The fires will keep movement of the soldiers headed east. John, once you reach the munitions tent, you and Roy will have to get the whole place ready to blow. Spread out the barrels of gunpowder to the other tents as much as possible. On your cue, Shado will blow it while Yao Fei starts to pick off the soldiers. Oliver and I will approach from the North to pick off the runners once that gets started.” 

          Oliver’s brow furrows. “What if someone sees me?” 

          “We’ll be wearing cloaks. It’ll be fine.” 

          He nods, shifting a little bit out of nerves.  

          John hums. “Just out of curiosity, when are we starting the assault? We can’t catch all the soldiers if we can’t see them in the dark, even if everything is on fire.” 

          “Just before dawn. The shifts will be switching then, but no one will be up and moving yet besides them. We’ll have cover in the dark for about twenty minutes, which will give you two time to set up the explosives and Slade time to get around the obstacles on the shore.” 

          John says nothing, but it appears that she has appeased him for now. 

          “Once we reach the edge, Oliver is going to wait just in case something goes wrong. Shado will come join us in the fight on the ground while Yao continues to cover us from above.” 

          Oliver looks mildly concerned about staying in one place, but he holds his tongue on it, instead opting for, “What about you?” 

          Felicity’s tone is darker than Oliver has ever heard it before when she speaks. “I’ll be hunting Fyers.” 

          “That’s it, then,” Slade says gruffly. “In a few hours, we’ll be rid of Fyers, free those enslaved here on the island, and gut ourselves a traitor.” 

          Oliver swallows, and Felicity does note that he’s particularly nervous now. He doesn’t like the plan, but he won’t say anything. Oliver almost never says what’s on his mind these days. It’s not something that Felicity can particularly fault him for, but it is something she reminds herself to be cautious about. She still thinks once they hit a bigger port, he might try to run. 

          Desperate men do stupid things. 

          Despite all that, he waits patiently for the moment of truth with the rest of them. His cloak is the darkest green in color, actually borrowed from Shado to help him blend into the trees and foliage. Felicity’s is close to the same brown of the tents in the camp. All the rest wear black except for Slade, who claims a cloak would only slow him down. Roy was actually a little forlorn over the fact that Felicity wouldn’t let him wear his red one. 

          Just like Felicity said, dawn is on their side.  

          She stays as close to Oliver as possible because his uneasiness is a little contagious. “Just keep calm and keep your eyes open. One step at a time. We’re too far into this to back out now.” 

          “I know.” Oliver nearly growls the words, gritting his teeth. With a bow over his shoulder and a sword at his side, he should actually be feeling pretty safe at the moment, but it’s clear he doesn’t want to return to the encampment.  

          “Halt!” 

          Felicity swears, cursing their rotten luck.  

          “Turn around slowly with your hands up.” 

          Suffice it to say, Felicity does _not_  turn slowly. She pulls her sword and kills two men before a third knocks her over the head as he emerges from behind a tree. While she’s still dazed on the ground, she tries to figure out what Oliver is doing.  

          She’s stunned beyond belief when she realizes that Oliver is beating the last man to death with a rock. She gets to her feet as fast as possible, groaning as she gets a little dizzy.  

          “Oliver!” 

          He lifts the rock again, but stops when he registers that she’s speaking to him. He pants, his shoulders heaving. She can see when he realizes what he’s done and she pulls him to his feet.  

          “Come on. We can dwell later, but right now we have to go.” 

          Stumbling after her, Oliver takes gasping breaths as he comes to grips with what just happened. “What have I done?” 

          “We can’t afford to think about it. Focus on the mission!” 

          Oliver stops. “I just murdered a man.” 

          She grabs his arm. “Oliver, we can’t do this right now. I promise that we’ll talk about it later, but you have to listen to me now. We need you. If something worse goes wrong now, you are our only chance.” 

          Oliver looks her in the eyes, shaking a little. He takes a breath through his nose, closing his eyes.  

          “We need you, Oliver.” 

          The thought sobers him, the knowledge that there are people depending on him pulling his train of thought back on course. He’ll probably shatter into a million pieces later, but for now he’s calm. “Let’s go.” 

          “Stay close, and keep your head down.” 

          They pick up the pace because of the time lost in the fight. Felicity refuses to tell him about the nausea she’s feeling, knowing it will only slow them down more. Luckily for her, it goes away soon enough.

          The pair arrives at the edge of the encampment, everything going according to plan. The sun is just about to start peeking over the horizon, which means that she has to get moving. She puts a firm hand on Oliver’s shoulder to remind him what’s at stake and he nods grimly.  

          “Be careful, captain.” 

          “Stay safe, Oliver. Try not to sacrifice yourself this time.” 

          Oliver almost smiles at the joke, but he’s too tense to really enjoy the moment. “I’ll cover you.” 

          She takes off on her own, staying close to the tents for camouflage as the sun comes up. There are already people shouting and screaming, but the explosions haven’t started, so it must only be the fires.  

          It doesn’t take more than two minutes more for Shado’s arrow to strike home in the munitions tent. The blast following is a sight to behold, making even Felicity pause in her tracks to watch. Six other tents go up because of the chain reaction and Felicity can’t help but think that John has to be her favorite person right now. 

          The screaming intensifies. 

          Felicity watches the center of the encampment as people are struck down by arrows where they stand. She can tell the exact moment when Shado joins the ground battle because of the different fletching on her arrows. Felicity stays crouched, glancing behind her to make sure no one is sneaking around. All she sees is the vague outline of Oliver’s hood just past the perimeter.  

          Watching with interest now, she observes as Slade kicks Billy out into the clearing. He yells at the man, voicing his sense of betrayal. Billy is silent. It only enrages Slade, and their fight ends with Billy leaned back in a hold, Slade ready to snap his neck.  

          “You were my brother, Bill, but you threw it away for the gain. Now it’s time for me to return the favor.” 

          The crack of bone is so clear, it’s as if everything else goes silent for a moment. Slade takes a breath, gasping once before nodding to himself. He looks up, finding Felicity’s gaze with a sense of finality. 

          “It’s finished. Now go, it’s your turn.” 

          Acknowledging him with a dip of her head, she moves again. John and Roy join the fight with Slade and Shado with their mission complete as well. Gunfire erupts as they pull out their flintlocks.  

          With their attention drawn from her, she seeks out Fyers from the cover of the tents.   

          She doesn’t expect him to find her.  

          “I would suggest that you stand up very slowly. I don’t know who you are, or why you’re here, but I must warn you that this was a terrible mistake. And, quite possibly, your last.” 

          She doesn’t bother to hide herself, pulling down her hood and turning around. “It’s you who made the mistake, Fyers. You took one of my crew from me, and I came here with every intention of getting him back.” 

          “You can’t mean Oliver. Your once-billionaire slave? You’re a pirate, and I sincerely doubt you came all this way just for him.” 

          Felicity huffs. “Shows what you know about pirates, or more accurately, my crew.” 

          Fyers shrugs his shoulders, his expression filled with fake sympathy. “Well, as much as I regret to inform you, your ‘crewmember’ is very dead. With luck on your side, you’d be fortunate if you found his body on the shore somewhere.” 

          For a very short moment, she debates over lying to him. She settles on yes, but she can't help rubbing it in his face. “Yes, I found out as much on our last visit. You gave the information so willingly; it was almost laughable.” 

          Fyers is now very confused. 

          With a wide grin, Felicity pulls her hair up and deepens her voice. “How do you think we knew exactly what to do about the guardtowers and where best to utilize your munitions.” 

          “No.” 

          Felicity drops her hair. “Oh, yes. You were so, so  _easy_. It was almost sad. My first mate was actually kind of disappointed. It’s amazing what trouble a man’s pride can get him into.” 

          As angry as Fyers looks, he does manage a smile. “And yet, here you stand at my mercy, your crewmate dead with your own hanging soon to follow. Maybe it’s you whose pride got you into trouble.” He gestures with his gun. “Drop your weapons on the ground there and walk towards me.” 

          She hates that she has to at the risk of catching a bullet.  

          Once he has her as his hostage, he marches her out to the clearing where all of his men are now dead. She gets a vindictive kick out of knowing that even if he kills her, her crew will still take his life now that they’ve taken everything he’s worked for. 

          “Everyone, stop!” Fyers orders, his words clipped. 

          In the light of morning, Felicity notes Yao Fei still up in the guard tower. Clearly, Fyers knows he’s up there and angles her as such. The other four members in her ground team all have their weapons trained on him, but Fyers has every idea of how to hold a hostage. His small size only gives him an advantage. 

          “You pirates,” Fyers sneers. “Always thinking you have the right to destroy and take what’s not yours. We’re trying to do good work here, to eliminate threats, but that’s all over because you wanted revenge. Over a slave! Over a man you came to find more than three months ago!” 

          “It’s not revenge,” a dark voice says, causing Fyers to twist a little towards the speaker. “It’s justice.” 

          Fyers huffs in Felicity’s ear. “Another bowman. Your other two have proven so helpful this morning, but even they won’t try to save you. Just how helpful do you think this one will be?” 

          “Do it.” Felicity hisses. “Show my archer how much of a coward you are that you’ll kill an unarmed woman.” 

          “Show yourself!” Fyers orders, the hood still hiding Oliver’s features.  

          Felicity doesn’t know how she can tell, but Oliver - or maybe just his posture - is  _very_ smug at the moment. He tugs his hood back, his expression remaining impassive. With a smooth movement, he levels an arrow on Fyers. 

          “I killed you myself!” Fyers says. “That’s impossible.” 

          Oliver scoffs. "Looks like you aren't as good as you thought."

          Felicity watches Oliver with critical eyes. There isn’t a single drop of hesitance in him now. Something has changed, but she isn’t sure what. She’s unaware of the fact that Oliver’s resolve was made solid the moment Fyers decided to take her hostage. He would rather die than let Fyers kill one of the people who worked so hard to protect him. He understands that they could be using him, but he doesn't mind because it's for their own protection. He cares that they came when he thought they wouldn’t. They’re also his only chance at getting home. Maybe not today, and maybe not even in a month’s time, but one day.

          “Come now, Mr. Queen. You don’t have the guts for this. You’re not a soldier.” It takes a moment, but he finally sees Oliver’s steely determination. “Unless these people have already turned you into a killer. Is this really what you want, Mr. Queen? Are you really going to kill me for this filthy pirate?” 

          Felicity thinks for a moment that it might throw him, but he remains steady. She looks into Oliver’s eyes, nodding carefully as she reads resolve in his stance. He knows exactly what has to be done to survive.  

          Oliver looses his arrow, hitting his mark just the way he intended. Fyers drops to the ground, leaving Felicity free to stare at him. He’s still peering at the body that he dropped, but there isn’t panic in his eyes this time. 

          “Now, we're finished.” 

          It takes Felicity a moment, a long and shocked moment, to understand that he’s responding to something Fyers' must have said to him before. Felicity feels like she’s looking at a whole different person. He finally glances back up at her and his expression is grim. 

          “Are you all right?” 

          She nods, inclining her head with gratitude. “Thanks.” 

          Oliver’s nod is a sharp motion. “We need to hurry if we’re going to rescue both the slaves and take all the remaining supplies. If there are more patrols in the woods, we can't be caught here.” 

          She raises a brow at his snappish tone, as does Diggle, which makes it clear that no one interpreted the words as a suggestion, but rather an order. No one makes an attempt to obey. It takes a second, but Oliver remembers his manners, his head ducking a bit awkwardly. That's more like the Oliver she knows.  

          “With respect, captain.” 

          Noting the sudden change in him, - the stupidly (attractive) assertive change - Felicity nods. “Let’s move.” 


	16. Intuition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! *waves*

          Felicity stands up near the ships wheel, one hand absently resting on a rung even though she has it locked into position. For the first time, Oliver stands with her instead of John. They’ve been talking about what’s in store now that the island is behind them. The slaves are free with their forged papers, sailing off into the sunset with the navy's boats. Irony is her friend.

          Oliver, the stubborn man that he is, still wants to return home. Felicity has told him repeatedly why they can’t, and she is very grateful that she’s captain and not Oliver.  

          The only thing Oliver seems to be the captain of is Stupid Ideas that Will Get Us All Killed. He should write a book.  

          For now though, he’s standing quietly. He’s been working up to talking to her about what happened, but so far he has failed. She’s willing to wait. Patience is one of her many strong suits. Much like modesty. 

          “Captain?” Oliver says hesitantly. 

          “Yes, Oliver?” 

          He looks down at the boards below his feet, his brow furrowing. “Do you think.... Was I... wrong?” 

          Felicity turns to face him, motioning for him to come join her at the railing. She stares out over her crew as they softly work. “You reacted, Oliver. It happens to the best of us.” 

          “I can’t imagine something like that happening to you. You’re fearless.” 

          Felicity snorts. “Far from it.” 

          His frown deepens, but he doesn’t argue with her. “I don’t know. I just....” He looks at his hands where they now hang over the rail. “I didn’t want to believe that I was capable of that much -” He trails off.  

          “Violence.” 

          He nods once. 

          “There’s a point in all of us where we have to give up what we think or are taught is right for what we _know_  is right. Too many people think that those are the same thing. Both that man and Fyers would have killed me if it hadn’t been for you. I, for one, can’t argue with that, but you’re going to have to figure out how that makes you feel. Regret is never black and white.” 

          “I don’t regret killing Fyers.” 

          Felicity sighs. “No, I didn’t think so, but the first one... that man in the woods spooked you.” 

          He spent an hour scrubbing off the blood, and even now he rubs at his hands like it’s still there. Marking him. Weighing on him.  

          Oliver releases a shaky sigh.  

          “For the record, I think you’re a little bit crazy. You met us not even two weeks before the whole thing with Fyers, but you protected us. I can reasonably say that I didn’t expect that of you. So... despite our initial opinions, you’ve impressed me.” 

          It takes him a little bit to respond, his expression that of pleasant surprise. “Thank you.” 

          “Don’t thank me yet. Just because we’ve made it out of one disaster doesn’t mean that we won’t run into another.” 

          Oliver huffs. “Way to be positive, captain.” 

          “What can I say? I’m a bit of a pessimist sometimes.” She shrugs, and Oliver finds it a little sad that she believes it’s normal. “Previous experience can be enlightening.” 

          This time her statement is met with a disbelieving scoff. “My previous experiences did exactly nothing for me since this whole thing started. I think I can safely say that there are exceptions to that statement.” 

          Felicity shakes her head, huffing quietly to herself. “So it seems.” 

          They fall into silence after that, Oliver retreating into his own head while Felicity looks out on her crew. Even so, she eyes him from the side. He appears far more at ease on the ship than she’s ever seen him. 

          “What?” 

          Blinking, Felicity realizes she’s been caught. “Nothing. Just thinking that you’re comfortable here.” 

          He glances down at the cuffs on his wrists, smiling a little. That’s... confusing. “It’s not as if I’ve got many other choices, captain. Adapt or die, and I, for one, refuse to accept the latter when I can still do something about it.” 

          Felicity snickers. “Now you sound like a pirate.” 

          “I’ll take that as a compliment for the time being.” 

          “You know... considering where you started out, you’re actually doing really well.” 

          The air almost audibly crackles as his mood darkens. Oliver scowls at her, and she tries not to immediately reach for her dagger when he rounds on her. “Considering where I started this was on the deck of the Queen’s Gambit when you and your crew were sinking it, sure.” 

          “Mind your tone, Oliver.” Felicity hisses, her words clipped in an attempt to remind him that she’s more dangerous than she looks. 

          He clenches his jaw, his face tensing and saying he’s ready to defy her. She’s just as prepared to fight him should he decide to take this too far. Felicity glances around, noting that her crew’s weapons are drawn. Shado is up in the nest, aiming directly at him. 

          She tilts her head, eyes narrowed as she dares him to challenge her. It’s only just now seeming to dawn on him that he’s stepping out of line. 

          Oliver turns back towards the railing with a defeated sigh, running a hand through his hair. Once the tension leaves him, he leans down on the rail as if it’s the only thing holding him up. Felicity motions for the crew to stand down, shifting to settle next to him. He doesn’t say anything, and he definitely doesn’t apologize. She would remind him, but just what he needs is to wind himself up. 

          She watches him, her gaze flinty. It’s only now that she’s really looking that she sees the shadows under his eyes. His face is a little gaunt, and he’s pale. His shoulders are bowed inwards, as if he thinks he can hide himself from her just because he doesn’t want her to look. 

          “I get it, Oliver. I understand that you’re angry.” 

          He shakes his head, and she pretends not to notice the way he grimaces afterwards. “I’m not... not angry with you. It’s just... everything else.” 

          “Stress takes its toll on all of us, Oliver. We’ve all got our own nightmares.” 

          His scoff is no less biting than his words earlier, but it’s aimed at himself more than anyone. 

          “Get some sleep, Oliver. I guarantee that you’ll need it.” 

          Oliver leaves her side, his head low and his movements little more than a shuffle. A gust of wind that tosses the ship a little nearly throws him off balance, but he keeps his feet.  

          When Oliver makes it down into the hold, John joins her at the rail. “Mood swings again?” 

          “Hmm.” 

          “He has been more snappy than usual since the whole thing with Fyers yesterday.” 

          Felicity hasn’t told her crew about the first person he killed that day, but she needs to tell someone. “That’s not the murder that he’s concerned about, or what has him so tense.” 

          “Oh?” 

          She sighs before speaking. “We almost got caught on our way to the encampment. Three guys came out of nowhere and tried to capture us. I killed two of them, and Oliver....” She takes a breath, remembering even through the haze the way he had let loose a wild shout. “Oliver bludgeoned the third to death with a rock.” 

          John is quiet for a long time. “That... doesn’t sound like Oliver at all, but it also doesn’t surprise me.” 

          Felicity’s brow furrows. “How does that not surprise you?” 

          “Oliver is unpredictable, Felicity. He always has been. And, in case you haven’t noticed, Oliver isn’t exactly rational when it comes to protecting this crew. He doesn’t think about it. Now, I admit, that does confuse me just a little, but that is his one constant.” 

          Felicity sighs, leaning on Diggle’s shoulder and puffing out a breath. “I know. It just... shook him up. He’s not a soldier, John. He isn’t used to this life of secrets and lies.” 

          John’s hum in cynical. “Oh, I think he very much understands now just how many lies could be hanging over his family. Why else would someone try to make Robert Queen disappear? Oliver’s has to be wracking his brain to figure out the answer. Not only just to what he did, but who would kill him for it.” 

          “His heart’s in the right place, but he’s struggling. You don’t think I’m being too hard on him?” 

          “If we aren’t, there’s a chance someone else gets ahold of him and he won’t be ready. You said he wasn’t a soldier, and it’s true enough, but he’s turning into a fighter. More than that – if I’m being really honest – a friend. If we can’t make him understand the severity of this situation now, he will end up dead later, and we’ll regret it.” 

          “That’s a really long-winded way of saying no.” 

          A wry smile crosses his lips. “No.” 

          “Shut up.” 

          He laughs, nudging her. “You know, if anyone else saw you like this, people would figure out that you’re really warm and fuzzy for a pirate. Taking in strangers. Recruiting people while they’re at work...” 

          “I’ll show you warm and fuzzy.” Felicity grumbles. 

          “I’m terrified.” 

          She looks away from him with faux indignance in her expression. “No respect.” 

          John smiles, his tone musing. “Or perhaps, for some of us, just enough.” 

          Felicity huffs at him. “You’re just trying to butter me up, Diggle. You can be honest if you want. You always are whether or not I want to hear it, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.” 

          “You’re too kind for this life.” 

          “Really? Too kind? I would’ve thought experience might say otherwise.” 

          John shakes his head. “It’s because you’re kind that we’re all here. You don’t care where people come from or what they’ve done. You give them a chance to change or an opportunity that they can’t pass up.” 

          “Now, you’re just being sappy.” 

          “I’m being honest, just like you asked me to be.” 

          She smiles when he kisses the top of her head, the brotherly gesture full of affection. “What would I do without you, John Diggle?” 

          “Hunt me down and badger me until I join you?” 

          “You know me too well.” 

          Felicity stands there with John for a long time. She’s known quite awhile that her crew is an unorthodox one, but she’ll take it over another any day. A loyal crew – with or without Slade some days, but hopefully his belligerence is over and done – is hard to come by. 

          “I do have one question though.” 

          “Oh?” 

          He nods. “How are you doing? You almost died, Felicity.” 

          She raises a brow. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Doesn’t really bother me anymore.” 

          “Of course not, Captain Unflappable.” 

          “If that were true, I wouldn’t be going around in circles trying to figure out what the hell we’re supposed to do about Oliver’s situation. You and I both know that we can no longer return to Starling.” 

          “Are you that sure he’s going to bolt?” 

          She glances down at her boots. “I know how it sounds, but I’ve just got this feeling.” 

          “It doesn’t sound like anything, Felicity. If you think that he’s going to run when we make land, then I believe you.” 

          Felicity’s brow furrows. “Then what do we do about it?” 

          With a smug twist of his lips, John’s laugh rumbles from his chest. “I say we let him. Let him see how dangerous it is to go wandering off. We both know that you and Roy can follow him without being noticed, and you’ll keep him out of trouble should he find it.” 

          “Are you really suggesting that we let him try it?” 

          “If your hunch is right, he’s going to either way. I say that we have people to back him up when things go wrong, and since... you know, it’s _Oliver_. Something is going to go wrong.” 

          “We could always chain him in the cargo hold.” 

          “And give him an excuse to run? We have Oliver’s trust, and taking away his choice will only make him feel victimized. He doesn’t get to make many choices because he’s supposed to be dead.” 

          “It’s because he’s supposed to be dead that I don’t like this.” 

          “You don’t have to agree with me, but....” John sighs, rubbing his brow. “Give it some thought.” 

          “It’s not safe.” 

          John simply squeezes her shoulder, walking away. Even so, he stops on the first step to look back at her. “Who exactly in our line of work is safe?” 

          He leaves her to her own thoughts. As loathe as she is to admit it, he has a point. Felicity sighs, resigning herself to the terrible plan that awaits them when they make land. _This had better be worth it, John._

          It may just be intuition, but somehow, she knows it is. 


	17. Just a Hunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold, he devuelto. Did'ya miss me?

          “Tell me again why we’re doing this?” 

          Roy snickers, huddling close to Felicity on the roof of a tall building. Darkness looms overhead, rain pattering down on the rooftops and into the streets. Down below, a dark shape slides into an alley. He’s trying to be subtle, but his steps echo off the walls. 

          “You knew this would happen, and John told you to let it, and now here we are.” 

          “That was a dumb idea. I’ll be sure to tell past me when I invent time travel.” 

          Roy blinks. “Time... travel?” 

          “Nevermind.” 

          Roy glances down at the vague shape below as he splashes into a puddle. “Come on. We should move.” 

          Felicity leads the way, pausing only as lightning cracks overhead. If it weren’t already so wet and muggy in the town, a fire wouldn’t be far behind. As it is, the only danger is slipping and falling. 

          “Where is he even going?” Roy asks, his voice low to avoid the sound traveling.  

          “He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he wants to get home. Luckily, or unluckily for him, once anyone sees those cuffs, they’ll pick him up.” 

          Roy frowns. “You told him about that, but he didn’t ask you to take them off.” 

          Felicity shrugs. “He probably has his reasons.” 

          “Like what? I don’t know if you’ve somehow forgotten in the last week, but rich boy wasn’t exactly healthy when we finally found him. Chains or cuffs would be the last thing he’d want to see.” 

          “You think I don’t know that? It’s strange and confusing, but I won’t question it when it helps us keep him alive.” 

          Roy rolls his shoulders, a light scowl on his face. “Sure.” 

          “Just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it doesn’t make sense to him.” 

          Roy makes a noise, following Felicity over the crest of a roof. Felicity keeps an eye on her charge, laughing to herself as he steps right under the light of a lamp post. He draws the eye of a night watchman but his posture is unassuming enough that the guard lets it go. It’s something she can appreciate about Oliver being relatively small. He doesn’t have John’s bulk, which makes him less of a threat. 

          “Can he make any more noise? Even the people who live here and aren’t escaped prisoners are quieter.” 

          “He’s not a prisoner. Besides, even if he was,” Felicity sighs. “At least he’s easy to keep track of.” 

          “Not just for us.” Roy points down the mouth of another alley to indicate a shifting shadow. Oliver is standing across from it, bathed in the light of a fire basket. “Pretty sure he’s about to get robbed.” 

          “Of course, he is.” 

          Roy slides down the paneling of the roof, leaping for a clothes line and swinging to a window’s ledge. Felicity gazes after him, eyes narrowed as he drops into the alley with the would-be thief. The thief whirls, but he doesn’t stand a chance.  

          Oliver’s head snaps up at a grunt, his hand moving to his side where his sword rests. Felicity isn’t sure who the noise belongs to, but she prays for Roy to hurry up. She notes that Oliver’s expression has turned to steel. His features are hard and he’s peering around him to make sure he isn’t being followed. No more noise comes from the alley to keep him on alert, but she can tell that he’s not near as relaxed as he was before. His posture is rigid. 

          After a few moments of dead silence, Roy climbs back over the edge of the rooftop, making his way back towards Felicity. He doesn’t look injured in any way, so Felicity chooses to take his reappearance as a good sign. 

          “What took you so long?” 

          “Guy didn’t wanna black out. He’ll be pretty out of it when he wakes up, what with the massive concussion an’ all.” 

          “You alerted Oliver.” 

          Roy peers down at him, noting that Oliver does look pretty shifty now. “That’s too bad. Don’t suppose this town is scary enough for him to decide to go back?” 

          “He’s come this far.” 

          “Right.” 

          Oliver rubs his hands together, tugging his cloak tighter around his shoulders. It takes a few minutes for him to move on from the only warmth he’s found in the last half-hour since his departure from the ship. Felicity shakes her head as he heads toward a more populated area. The vendors barely look at him, people milling around him as if he were merely an obstacle.  

          The moment Oliver senses someone’s eyes on him is almost unbearably obvious. A heavily muscled man is peering at him from under the awning of a pub. Felicity holds back a smirk. Oliver moves quickly, pulling on the edge of his hood to better hide his face. He, rather unwisely, heads for a wall, his back shifting into it. Felicity pulls Roy close to her as his gaze turns to the rooftop. The slope of the roof will hide their shadows, but the fires below might still give them away. Lightning flashes overhead and Felicity grimaces.  

          “Just don’t move, Roy.” 

          Oliver’s eyes move down to the surrounding people. Felicity wishes that he wasn’t being so blatantly obvious.  

          The big man by the pub grins when Oliver finds him. He starts making his way through the crowd and Oliver spooks. He runs, which is about the worst thing he can do. Felicity rolls her eyes, beckoning Roy as she moves to follow them.  

          “Gotta give Oliver some credit.” 

          Felicity glances back at him. “What are you talking about? He’s about to get caught.” 

          “He found the guy watching him.” 

          “He drew attention to himself. Now, come on, before they get too far ahead of us. We don’t know what that guy wants with Oliver yet, so we’re going to have to be careful. If Oliver was just a mark, he wouldn’t have let himself be seen.” 

          "Are you thinking ransom?"

          "Something like that."

          Chasing from above, Felicity watches Oliver make his way into the residential district. His pursuer breaks into a sprint, tracking him down as swiftly and efficiently as possible.  

          “No need to run.” the man says, his deep voice easily heard from above. “I have no intention of hurting you.” 

          Oliver doesn’t respond, ducking into an alley. His footsteps are louder than they ever were on the island, which yeah, he should have expected. He grimaces, looking behind him and starting to panic as he sees the man closing in.  

          “Stay away from me! I don’t have anything!” 

          He’s tackled to the ground, groaning as the man wrestles him firmly onto his stomach. Oliver twists, hurting something but not caring. He gets out from under the man. He doesn’t know how, but he staggers to his feet, wheeling around and pulling his sword.  

          “Stay back!” 

          The man tilts his head, squinting as he notes the cuffs on his wrists. “Yes. I thought that might be the case. Someone is after you, then. The only question is who I have to return you to for the bounty.” 

          Oliver takes a defensive step back, making sure to keep the stranger in his sights while maintaining an escape route. “You chased me on a hunch?” 

          The man grins. “If I hadn’t, someone else would have.” 

          Oliver shakes his head, backing away. He’s not afraid, not after what he’s been through. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want any trouble.” 

          “Hmm. You do look like you possess some skill, but trust me. You are no match for us.” 

          His breath catches in his throat. “Us?” 

          The man grins and Oliver turns just in time to see the broad side of a board coming towards him before everything goes dark. The partner tilts his head as he watches Oliver fall, shaking his head to get his hair to flip out of his eyes. The big man puts a bag over Oliver’s head and his partner turns him so he can tie his hands.  

          “These are some high-end cuffs. Can’t read the inscription in this light to see who they belong to, but I don’t think I’d be able to pick ‘em.” 

          “We’ll just have to see when we get up to the pub.” 

          “All right. You carry him. There ain’t nothing in his pockets, T. Only things he’s got is a sword and this cloak.” 

          The bigger man hefts Oliver up onto his shoulder. “Well, if what you said about those cuffs is true, then whoever he belongs to might pay a pretty pence for his return.” 

          The two take their time getting to the pub, the back door creaking as they enter. They don’t realize that both Roy and Felicity have followed them. 'T' carries him down to the owner’s private office, the room spacious for being located under an old building. The walls are cobblestone, chains in one corner for an event such as this. The owner runs bounties and odd jobs, meaning that sometimes holding someone is required. 

          “Put him down. We gotta wait for the boss to show up.” 

          “I can’t see a damn thing in here. Aren’t there any lanterns?” 

          They fumble around in the dark space until one of them manages to find a candle. The larger man puts Oliver in the corner, chaining his hands behind him and letting him slump over.  

          “How long you think the boss’ll be?” 

          “No idea. Last I knew, he was out picking up supplies from a local vendor.” 

          The pair of them settle in to wait, still unaware of the two pirates watching them from outside the door. When they start playing cards, Felicity lets Roy slip in first. She’s about to follow when she hears someone coming.  

          She finds a place to hide in a nearby corner, dragging her heavy leather cloak over her head. With any luck, the guy coming will gloss over it.  

          “Tate? Alec?” 

          Felicity hopes Roy is hidden well in the room, maybe behind a desk or a cabinet or something.  

          “You boys are back early.” 

          “Glad you’re back, Baylord. We found a mark slinking around just outside.” 

          The man makes a very gruff noise and Felicity realizes that it’s cynical. “Really? Found a case all on your own, out in the wild streets of Tudor? I’d say I’m proud, but I’m wondering about the quality or this ‘job’.” 

          “He’s an escaped slave.” 

          Felicity can almost feel his eyebrows raise from her hiding place. “He?” 

          She moves a little, adjusting her cloak just enough to see over. The two guys who took Oliver are pointing to the corner where they chained him up. “Over there. He’s out for now, but he’ll be comin’ around soon enough.” 

          “Hmm.” Baylord walks away from them and Felicity hears a thump from the far corner. “Figure out who he belongs to, yet?” 

          “Nope. Couldn’t figure out the cuffs or their markings.” 

          The older man hums. “Pirates, then. Some sort of code, I’d be willing to guess.” 

          Alec tilts his head, ducking as Tate swings his massive arms trying to swat a fly. “So.... would the pirates pay?” 

         “Might be of more substance if we turned in the pirates instead, but... it might be worth it to see what they’d be willing to give. It’s not every day you find a white slave running around anyway.” 

          Tate grumbles as he rids himself of the fly, wiping his hand on his pants. “Someone must have sold him, don’t you think?” 

          “Probably.” 

          Just as Alec is about to speak, Felicity hears a choked gasp in the room. Oliver must be up.  

          “W-what’s going on?” 

          She hears Baylord laugh. “What’s going on is that we caught an escapee and you’re going back to your masters, whoever they may be. What do you say? Mind telling us who you were traveling with?” 

          Chains rattle in the room and Oliver’s breaths catch. She can just about imagine his expression: eyes stricken and staring and his hands frozen at his sides. Roy had the right idea about the chains.  

          “No.” 

          “No, eh? Just because you don’t want to go back doesn’t mean we won’t find out. Just tell us who the pirates you came in with are and we’ll be savvy. I’m sure they’re searching for you anyway.” 

          “I said no.” 

          Felicity sighs. Being that stubborn is what’s going to get him in the most trouble. 

          Baylord strikes Oliver, the slap cracking in the small space. “Clearly your masters didn’t do a good job teaching you discipline! Perhaps we’ll have to give you a lesson.” 

          She would almost guarantee that the sound she hears is Oliver spitting on Baylord.  

          “Stay put, Roy.” she mutters, hoping that Roy has the kind of sense to wait for her. 

          The beating that follows Oliver’s bout of belligerence probably isn’t pretty, but Roy doesn’t interrupt. Felicity is grateful. She wouldn’t want him to get into any trouble, even if he were trying to be helpful.  

          “Come on, boys. Let’s ask around and see who might be looking for a certain someone.” 

          The three of them leave, the owner unlocking the door to the front of the pub. The voices of many chattering people come through before the door is shut and the three of them are gone. Felicity waits just to be sure that they’re staying that way before coming out of the shadows.  

          She creeps inside. “Oliver?” 

          He looks up from where he’s chained at the wall, his nose bloody and his cheek bruised. “Captain?” 

          “Yeah. Roy?” 

          Roy clambers out of his hiding place, knocking over books from where he was sheltered. “I’m right here, and you know what I’ve decided? I really hate that guy.” He pauses when he sees Oliver. “And they call us criminals and con artists.” 

          Oliver grimaces, shifting to sit up straighter. “You were here the whole time?” 

          Roy shrugs. “What?” 

          “You just... let him do this to me.” 

          Felicity bristles. “We didn’t have much of a choice, Oliver. It wouldn’t have done us any good to butt in and make ourselves appear like a threat. This is the safest way to get you out.” 

          He glares at her. “You followed me. All the way here.” 

          There isn’t a question in his tone, only anger, but Felicity isn’t about to let herself be intimidated. He seems to keep forgetting that he can’t push her around just because he’s in a mood. “Yes.” 

          “I... thought you trusted me.” 

          “And you thought you would use that supposed trust to run away from us?” 

          He has the courtesy to look cowed by the accusation. “I’m sorry?” 

          “Was that a question?” 

          Oliver grimaces, lifting a hand to swipe at the blood under his nose. His following sigh is heavy-laden and he rubs at his ribcage. “I’m sorry, Captain. It won’t happen again.” 

          “It had better not.” 

          Oliver chews at the inside of his lower lip. Felicity is angry, and rightly so. He thought he’d slip out with no one the wiser, but he had been wrong. Wrong to do it, and wrong to believe he could.  

          Felicity motions for Roy to follow her and Oliver gets a panicked look about him. “You’re leaving me here?” 

          “We have to. It would be a little suspicious if we came and got you before we’re even supposed to know you’re gone, wouldn’t it?” Felicity says, the same dangerous light in her eyes that was there when they met.  

          “Captain?” Oliver breathes, his voice fearful. 

          “You may forget, Oliver, but I am not known for being merciful. I’ve warned you once already about endangering my crew.” 

          He glances down at his chained hands, a shaky breath leaving his mouth. Roy only looks away when Oliver tries to meet his eyes. 

          “We’ll protect you, Oliver, but not if you betray us.” 

          Oliver’s expression sours. “I’d never-” 

          “Really? Using our trust so you have a chance at going home, the one place you _can't_ go, isn’t a betrayal? Ignoring the danger that we’ve warned you about out of selfish desire?” 

          “Captain, please.” 

          “Actions have consequences, and you’re going to have to learn to live with them.” 

          Oliver falls silent, staring at her with his jaw clenched. He takes a moment to stop fuming and start comprehending what she’s telling him. With a steadying breath, he nods at her. Felicity extends a hand to him and he shifts around uncomfortably. She crouches, placing the open hand on his arm with the barest hint of warmth in her eyes.

          “You trust me?” 

          Oliver barely hesitates before nodding again. 

          “We’ll be back as soon as those men oh-so-conveniently run into Slade.” 

          “Slade is here?” 

          Felicity shrugs. “Most likely. I gave him shore leave and this is the closest pub to the port. He knows to expect someone to approach him.” 

          Oliver isn’t exactly comforted by the knowledge that Slade is in the front. Sure, he’s handy in a fight, but it’s very possible that he’s drunk now. Oliver isn’t especially curious to find out what he’s like.  _He's probably a mean drunk._

          Felicity and Roy head for the door, but before they can leave, Felicity turns back. “And Oliver?” 

          Oliver winces. 

          “The next time you decide that my crew’s safety is worth less than your freedom, don’t count on a swift rescue.” 

          They’re walking out the door when she hears his quiet reply. For someone who fights so hard for his dignity, the answer is much too subdued. “Yes, Captain.” 


	18. All Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly? Cutting out his own spleen with a butter knife would have been easier for Slade.

          Slade sits in the dark pub, the candlelight only serving to cast shadows and make the place more eerie. Not that Slade cares. Really, before Felicity came into his life, he was managing just fine in establishments like these. Getting kicked out of the Australian army – New Holland, in the 1700s, anyway – really did a number on him. 

          He’s met a lot of people in his life, but that day.... Well, that was something else entirely.  

          Actually, it was in the back alley of a pub just like this one that she turned his life upside-down. She just... appeared. Or at least, that’s how his drunken mind interpreted it.  

          He was stumbling out the back door, drunk as a skunk and barely holding onto the bottle in his hand. Every step was a tremendous effort, and he didn’t have any clue as where he was going. He made it a whole two blocks, people staring at him and widening their paths to avoid him. Really, that’s how he preferred it, since he didn’t want to deal with anyone anyway.  

          The only person who really cared was Billy, but after they got discharged.... Well, he turned to a more nefarious way of life. He tried to help Slade at first, but it became clear Slade didn’t want it, so he left. Taking care of himself became more of a hassle than it was worth, so he stopped. His hair and beard grew out far too long. If Billy hadn’t already gone a new direction, he might have left after seeing him like that. 

          It seemed fair at the time since everyone else did the same. The blur of the next few months never sharpened in his mind, and the bars and pubs kind of blended if he’s being honest with himself.  

          Until that back alley. 

          Something changed, and he’s more than likely never to forget it. A small kid skipped into the alley, knocked into his shoulder and took him to the ground. He was spitting and cursing as he struggled to get up. The kid merely sat down on an old barrel. It smelled like rum, as he recalls now.  

          “Ugh. What do ya’ want from me, kid?” 

          Even though he could barely see them, he could tell that the person shrugged. “Nothin’. Just wondering what you’re doing out here. Can’t be healthy to be out here in the gutter, swimming around in the garbage.” 

          He finally gained his feet, scoffing at what he assumed to be a young girl. “You think so, eh? Why do you care, anyhow?” 

          She hopped off the barrel. “Don’t.” 

          “Then why don’t you be on your merry way, hmm?” 

          With another shrug, the girl swung something behind his knee and dropped him a second time. “It’s hard to be on my ‘merry way’, as you call it, seeing as it involves you.” 

          He growled, lashing out at her but missing by a long shot. “Thought ya’ said you didn’t want anything!” 

          “From you. I don’t want anything  _from_ you.” 

          With a disgruntled noise, Slade pulled himself to his knees. It didn’t work all that well and he ended up settled in a puddle. “Well, then. You’d best get to what you want before I decide to stop caring.” 

          She nudged him with a thick leather boot, knocking him off-balance. “Do you? Care, I mean?” 

          “Kid, yer s-startin' to get on my very last nerve.” 

          “Oh, am I?” She nudged him harder then, causing him to splash into the puddle. He landed on his elbow, his head swinging with dizziness. “I would have figured you’d be too drunk to feel your last nerve.” 

          He hissed a curse at her, but he’s still fuzzy to this day on which one. 

          “Rude. Here I am doing you a favor, and what do I get?” 

          Slade got to his knees again, grumbling under his breath. “A splitting headache?” 

          She walked around him, eyeing him up and down a few times. He tried not to let it make him feel uncomfortable, but something in her shrewd gaze put him on alert. Too drunk to act on it or even to walk straight, he simply sat there and watched her. There had to be something specific she was looking for, but he would be willing to bet she already found it before she confronted him. 

          “I have an offer for you.” 

          “I’m not in the mood.” 

          She scoffed. “Not that kind of offer. You may be stewing in the gutter, but please get your mind out of it.” 

          Spitting down into the puddle, Slade pulled himself to his feet. Stumbling though he may have been, he walked on without her. How stupid of him to have assumed that she would give up that easily.  

          “Honestly, Wilson, you’d probably be more efficient at a crawl.” 

          He didn’t care that she knew his name even if it had occurred to him as odd. “You think I’d crawl? Like a dog?” 

          “Don’t know. Just didn’t figure it’d be much lower than where you are at this point.” 

          That dragged him to a stop and he took deep breaths to keep from killing her on the spot. At the time, he didn’t know her and figured that even drunk, he stood a decent chance.  

          “Little girl, I’m going to warn you once. Keep antagonizing me and I will break your skinny neck.” 

          She only laughed at him. “I would most certainly like to see you try.” 

          He whirled, staggering into the wall of a random storefront. He didn’t recognize it then, or perhaps he just couldn’t see straight. If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, the girl was simply standing there laughing at him. It was just about enough ridicule to send him over the edge. 

          He took a step towards her but she held up a hand. “Please, don’t. Doing this now will only end poorly for you, so I’d really suggest taking that step back. I meant, I’d like to see you try when you’re sober.” 

          Slade scowled. “Why don’t ya’ just leave me alone, eh? I didn’t ask fer yer kind of trouble.” 

          “I just told you. I want to fight when you’re sober.” 

          “Forget it, kid. Not only is there very little chance of me being sober, you won’t catch me fighting a teenager.” He waved a careless hand at her. If he had known then what he knows now, he’d have been more careful. He just really hadn’t known the kind of trouble she was. 

          “So you say now. It’ll happen.” 

          He turned around and tried to tune her out. She simply continued to stalk him from a very short distance, chattering as time went by and reminding him that the challenge was still open.  

          Three days. That kid trailed him for three days, and she was relentless. He thought his life was some sort of hell before he met her, but he learned quickly that he was very wrong. Every step of his own was followed soon after by hers. She, in her leather outfit with two short blades at her sides, was like a hell-spawn in cupid form. She was all too chipper, but somehow, over time he understood she was dangerous. 

          There was no end to the talking. She cleaned her weapons in his apartment when he decided to go there, and drew herself a hot bath. A hot bath. In his apartment. The arrogance would have driven him nuts if he hadn’t realized she could turn lethal at any moment.  

          “I’m just saying, really. You could definitely do with a shave. And a haircut.” She giggled to herself. “Two bits.” 

          “Kid, I swear if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to ask you to kill me.” 

          She kicked her feet from where she was sitting on top of his dresser, shrugging. “Well, you know, there is one way to get out that you know fully well. All you have to do is sober yourself up and fight me.” 

          He scrubbed a hand over his face, growling to himself. “No.” 

          “Why? Afraid you’ll lose?” 

          At first? Maybe not. Now? He has no idea.  

          “Just don’t see why you’re so interested, ‘s all. This could be a trap. You said you didn’t want anything, yet here you are, waitin’ for me to give in to your... whatever it is you call them. Demands, prerequisites, whatever. For what purpose? I mean, why? What could you possibly want with me?” 

          "Just full of all kinds of questions, aren't we?" She tilted her head, huffing. “You’re a soldier. Even reeking of... whatever you’ve been drinking, you can tell that. Only an idiot could assume you weren’t military of some sort.” 

          “I don’t think that’s the first assumption anyone makes about me.” Slade grumbled, pulling on his ragged boots and shrugging a thick trench coat over his shoulders. 

          “As the town drunk?” 

          “Something like that.” 

          “As some kind of beggar?” She dropped off the dresser, walking around the bed where he was trying to sleep. “A man with no regard to principle, or for himself? Please. I’ve been watching you a whole lot longer than three days, and I’ve got a pretty damn good idea of what people think of you. That’s not what I care about.” 

          Slade squeezed his eyes shut. “Why can’t you just leave me the hell alone?” 

          She made a noise. “Because it’s you that I’m after. I’m looking to expand my captain’s crew, and I figured a little muscle would be good. Someone strong, but with a good head for strategy on their shoulders.” 

          “You have a crew with someone? What are you, twelve?” 

          “Fifteen, but that doesn’t matter.” 

          Slade got up, having no other real choice. “Oh, it doesn’t, does it? You are nothing but a child playing pretend. A crew? You?” Slade cracked up thinking about it. “You’ve spent all this time following me for a fantasy.” 

          The sword that found its way under his chin had him freezing in place. “Oh, trust me, Wilson. This is very real, and I am very much attempting to recruit you. I’ve been patient, and I’ve let you wander around for days in your drunken stupor. Feeling sorry for yourself like some wounded dog that won’t die.” 

          Slade stomped towards the door. “Think you _know_  me, do you?” 

          She grabbed the back of his coat, slinging him around and pinning him to the floor in a heartbeat. “Oh, I think I do.” 

          “Prove it.” he spat. 

          “Fine.” She smiled, a little taunting with just a touch of anger. “You go to war to defend your country, young and strong and loyal. You make friends, fight beside them, for them. They die for you, and you push that down. You and a good friend make it through all of that together, and then you find another personal war to fight once it’s over. Except you get kicked out. You get kicked out and you run. Poor little Slade Wilson runs, and he ends up in France. Right here in this little town. From there you crash and burn. That good friend? He leaves you to your own misery. He abandons you and you push it all down. Booze might help you sleep at night, but it can’t change that you’ve given up.” 

          “No.” Slade shook his head, heat building behind his eyes. “It’s not true.” 

          She gripped the front of his shirt, shaking him once and shaking him _hard_. “It is true! You know it is! So, to drown your sorrows, you become  _this_. This filthy, wretched excuse for a man with thirty shillings to his name and a bottle in his hand. The once-proud soldier is now living in the streets, too drunk to get back here most nights. Have nothing. Worth nothing. You hate yourself so much, you don’t care if you live to tomorrow!” 

          “Shut up!” 

          Slade never truly hated anyone more than he had in that moment. He shoved her off so hard that she stumbled back into the front door. The grin on her face said she got exactly what she wanted from him. 

          “That’s it! That’s what I’m looking for!” 

          Slade climbed to his feet, not charging for the sake of his own life. She had two short swords, and right then she was ready to use both. “Shut up! Shut! Your! Mouth! That’s all you’ve done for the last three days is talk! You want a fight? Fine! If it gets you to stop and leave me the hell alone, I’ll do it!” 

          She laughed at him, one hand moving down towards the sword on her right for reassurance. “Now, we’re getting somewhere. I’ve got terms.” 

          He ran a hand over his head, hissing. “Fine.” 

          “Term number one is that you have to sober up. You take a week to dry out. Condition two? Take a bath and shave something before you get lice. Number three is that you’re going to meet me at noon near the shipping docks once you’re dried out. The line that’s been shut down. If I win? You join my captain’s crew without complaints.” 

          “And if I win?” 

          “Well, as much as I highly doubt it will be the case, I’d be dead. Then, I suppose you could come back here and keep drowning your sorrows in whiskey. I suppose my eternal silence would be your gain.” 

          She opened the door, ready to finally,  _finally_ leave when Slade growled out his response to that. “Whoever you are, I’ll be waiting for you.” 

          “Hmm.” She clicked her tongue. “Smoak. My name is Felicity Smoak, and I’m counting on it.” 

          Felicity left the room then, stalking off with a Cheshire grin on her face. Slade was fuming. He stalked back and forth across the small room before huffing to himself. For the first time in a while, he had something to fight against. Something to loathe. 

          So, he did as she asked. All the bottles were thrown out and he washed his clothes. Everything she asked him to do, he did. He has no idea why to this day. All he knew then was that it was most certainly the easiest way to be rid of her.  

          For the first time in a long time, Slade sharpened his swords. He peered down the shining edge with critical eyes, his focus sharper than it had been in months. When his week was up, he was sure he was ready. It was more effort than he had put into himself since his best friend left him high and dry. He actually looked into the mirror – his beard cut down to stubble and his hair trimmed down to army regulations – and didn’t immediately hate the man he saw there. Much to his disbelief, he realized he was almost respectable. 

          Scoffing, he tromped down the steps and out of the building. He drew eyes, but paid them no mind. He was about to rid himself of a particular brand of pest. 

          He arrived early at the location only to find that she and her not-so-supposed crew were already there. He picked out the captain by the unnecessarily posh overcoat. He was too young, as far as Slade was concerned. The first mate was clearly Felicity, and the third person there was a child. He didn't know what to make of it, but the kid's features were too sharp which pointed out undernourishment in the past. 

          It was a miracle that the tiny group counted as a crew. 

          Felicity approached him, glancing at a timepiece on her wrist. “Want to wait until exactly noon, or get this show on the road?” 

          “Oh, I’m ready when you are.” 

          “Good. As the challenged, you choose the weapons, so I’d suggest you choose wisely.” 

          Slade pulled his own pair of swords from his back, offering one of the two to her. She gave her own weapons to the child, looking down at his face to search for something in his concerned expression. Taking his offered sword, she swung it a few times to test the balance before settling into a fighting stance.  

          The way she held the blade.... It spoke to a distinct note of practice. 

          When the match began, Slade struck first, unaware that she was already toying with him. Her sword clashed against his, knocking it aside as she stepped into his space. With a shocking amount of force, she rammed her shoulder into his chest. Felicity had no qualms about fighting dirty. Slade stumbled back a few steps, rubbing at his chest as he readied his blade for another strike. Again, he struck first, but she countered every swing as if she knew how he was going to move. In the breadth of only a few moments, she swung around as if to cleave his head from his shoulder, his own sword just barely coming up to stop her. The serration lower on the blade nicked his cheek.

          With a sharp movement, she dragged her sword downwards, sliding the flat side under his knee and bringing him down.

          She took him on without batting an eyelash, and Slade isn’t ashamed to say he got his ass handed to him. If that was what it took for him to finally move on, then that’s what it took. Felicity was a hundred times more frightening (and convincing) when she was glaring down at him over the length of a blade, the tip at his throat while he laid on his back. 

          He could respect her. She had proved that he owed her that much. 

          As for Cooper and the crew that he came to know, they weren’t very eager to accept him. It was clear Cooper disapproved of Felicity’s choice, but she stood by him, which meant that Roy stood with her. He hadn’t realized it then, but the captain of that crew was already her. Both he and Roy trusted Felicity more than Cooper, and even if he never learns the full stories behind them, he’ll be content right where he is.   

          He’s alive and able to sit in a pub right now because of her. Felicity will kill him if he gets drunk tonight and ruins her plans, so he does as she asked. Whether out of intimidation or respect, he's careful with the amount of alcohol he consumes. Risking her wrath isn't worth the hangover.

          Soon enough, two men approach him, one rather large and the other just a regular guy. “Sir?” 

          Putting his single drink down on the table, he looks up at them with a sigh. “Yes?” 

          “We’ve been asking around, and we were wondering if you were by chance looking for an escaped slave. He’s kinda tall, blond hair. He’s also got these weird cuffs on him, and we hoped you’d know him.” 

          So, this is why Felicity warned him someone would likely approach him.  “Yes. Yes, I unfortunately do.” 

          “Is he... yours?” 

          Slade chuckles. “No. He’s my captain’s. Knowing Captain Smoak? Bound to turn up here at any moment lookin’ for ‘im. Be warned, though. Smoak can be a might testy when something isn’t going the proper way.” 

          “Will you, uh.... Will you pay us for him?” 

          “Like I said: wait for the captain.” 

          With a smile, he downs the rest of his glass. Felicity will set them straight for taking Oliver, even if he did bring it on himself. _Oh, I do_ _believe_ _I’m going to enjoy watching this._


	19. Hiatus

          I know, I know. We all hate that word. I've had a bit of an eye-opener and so I will be reworking this story for a while. I promise I will be back as soon as I can, but I make no promises. I can tell you that when I'm back, I will be reporting updated versions of every chapter, and I'm telling you now so that when I'm ready, everyone will be able to catch up relatively easily. 

          As much as I regret putting yet another chapterwork on hiatus, I want to thank all of you who have been following and I hope you'll stay tuned for the rise from the ashes. :)


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